


Secret Identity

by lesbuchanan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Everyone Has Issues, Fluff and Angst, M/M, OP Has Issues, Post-Break Up, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-05-09 00:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbuchanan/pseuds/lesbuchanan
Summary: Bucky is just a regular guy. He works as a nurse, lives in a moderate Brooklyn apartment with his pet cat, oh, and he once dated Captain fucking America. After a pretty rough breakup over a year ago, he's been re-adjusting to regular life, with only a moderate amount of success. But what little progress he had made goes straight out of the window when Steve shows up at his door, and the two of them are finally forced to confront their feelings.





	1. The Fugitive

We all know that feeling. When it seems like the entire world is wrapped up in some craze and you’re the only person who doesn’t want to hear about it. All of your friends are obsessed with a new band that you don’t care about and you’re forced to listen to them talking on and on, day in day out. Now take that same situation, and imagine that one of those band members was also your dickhead ex, and you might have some idea of what Bucky’s entire life was like.

The problem is, it’s not just some band. It’s not just a little fad that you can easily avoid, because there’s not a single person in the country who doesn’t have strong opinions about Captain America. It’s not even like he can _say_ anything to people. How do you drop the news that you once dated America’s shining hero, let alone tell people that he was an asshole? “I know Captain America saved the entire planet like five times, but he’s also a jackass and I hate him” is just not a statement that would go down well with the general population. Sure, there were tons of “anti-Captain America” forums online filled with people who shared his unsavoury views, but those people also happened to be neo-Nazis, and frankly Bucky would sooner rip his remaining arm off than interact with a single one of them. So instead he was doomed to a life of isolation, forced to listen to everyone singing his praises. Cursed to be the only man on the face of this earth who knew what an absolute garbage monster he really was. Of course, most days it was bearable. Most days the avengers _weren’t_ causing some kind of drama. Most days people weren’t talking about them. Today was not one of those days.

His birthday had started ordinarily enough, waking up and immediately inhaling a tuft of cat fur. Choking, he frantically shoved the cat off his face and sat upright, coughing and heaving on the bed. After what felt like an eternity, the scratching in his throat eased and he sat back against the bed frame, looking wearily down at his attacker.

Star looked fairly pleased with himself, rolling onto his back on the mattress and looking up at him. He’d adopted Star from a shelter almost six years ago after being told by multiple people that cats could help relieve anxiety. He hadn’t been particularly convinced, but after falling in love with the little grey and white ragdoll, he figured it was worth a shot. Had Star helped alleviate a few problems? Sure. But now he had a whole list of new problems, such as waking up in the morning with a fluffy tail in his mouth. Still, fur in the throat was a small price to pay for someone to talk to in his usually quiet apartment.

“What have I told you about sleeping on my face?” He asked sternly. “How many times do we have to have this conversation, pal?”

Star just stared at him, not a single trace of remorse on his evil, adorable face. Yawning, Bucky reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his notepad, scanning his first few reminders for the day.

  * Feed Star
  * Breakfast
  * Work at 8:30



Tossing the notepad onto the duvet, he shooed Star away and swung his legs out of bed, sliding his feet into his slippers and pottering sleepily to the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face to wake himself up and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He’d long since accepted that his dark circles were just a genetic thing, but they looked particularly pronounced today. Sighing to himself, he opened the medicine cabinet and searched for his concealer. It was a disgusting, crusty looking pot that he’d bought at least 5 years ago and always forgot to replace, but hey, he’d spent a whole $6 on it and he was damn well going to get his money’s worth out of it. The concealer didn’t do much to cover anything up, probably because it was about 3 years out of date, but his dark circles didn’t look quite so dark now. Setting the pot down, he grabbed his hairbrush to try and tackle his hair, which was currently hanging in long, tangled strands in his face. Five minutes of brushing left it standing on end and sticking in all directions, so he pulled it back into a bun and left it be, brushing his teeth and walking out to the kitchen.

Star was sat by his water bowl when he got there, meowing up at him impatiently. Bucky looked down at the bone dry bowl and frowned, a twinge of guilt shooting through his stomach as he realised he’d forgotten to fill it last night.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, bud.” He said as he took it over to the sink to fill it. “Guess that’s why you were being a pain earlier, huh?”

Star just rubbed against his leg, chirping happily when Bucky set the bowl down next to him and lapping the water up enthusiastically. He watched him for a little while before grabbing the cat food from the cabinet and filling Star’s food bowl, then grabbing his own bowl and heading back over to where he kept the cereal. If it weren’t for his bottle of meds being right next to the cereal, he would have forgotten to take them, and he cursed himself out under his breath for not remembering to add that to his list the night before.

Once he’d eaten, he changed into his scrubs and checked his notepad again to remember when his shift started, saying a quick goodbye to Star before heading out of the apartment to his car. He made it to the hospital with just enough time to grab a coffee before his shift started.

As he stood at the machine waiting for his coffee he was vaguely aware of somebody creeping up behind him, and when he turned around he found Claire standing behind him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Haaappy birthdaaay!” She sung, laughing when he rolled his eyes. “Dirty thirty. Do you feel insatiable yet?”

“Not exactly, but the day is young.” Bucky shrugged. “Have I missed any excitement?”

Claire shook her head, leaning against the wall and folding her arms. “It’s been pretty quiet.” She said, her eyes lighting up suddenly. “Have you seen the news though?”

“Claire, we both know I avoid the news at all costs whenever superheroes are involved.”

“I know I know, but the accords are _kind of_ a big deal. I don’t think you’ll be able to block this one out.”

Sighing deeply, Bucky perched himself on the side and took a large gulp of coffee. “Okay fine, catch me up.”

“Okay, well you already know about that whole thing in Lagos right?”

Bucky nodded. Of course he’d heard about Steve’s idiotic, reckless ass wreaking havoc in Nigeria. It was all anybody would talk about for the last two days. Leave it to Steve to piss off a King.

“Yeah, I know about that.” He mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose and fighting the urge to start a whole rant about it.

But really. Almost all the avengers had pissed off a few government officials in their time, maybe even some minor celebrities, but an actual monarch? The King of a whole country? Only Steve could do that. Shaking his head, he looked back up at Claire expectantly. “So what’s happened now?”

“Well, now the UN wants to put these accords in place.” She explained. “Which will basically mean the government gets to dictate how and when the Avengers get to do anything.”

“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. So what? Next time some aliens decide to crash a spaceship into the earth Thor’s gotta file an official request to kick their ass?”

“That’s exactly what Cap said.” She told him, cocking an eyebrow. “You know considering how much you claim to hate the guy, you sure do have a lot in common.”

Bucky snorted and choked on his coffee, coughing loudly for a few seconds until Claire thumped him on the back.

“Thanks.” He spluttered, clearing his throat. “This is why you shouldn’t tell me jokes when I’m drinking.”

“It’s not a joke. Have you considered that maybe your hatred of him is just a projection, and that actually you just hate that he reminds you of yourself?”

“Claire, it’s way too early in the morning for you to psychoanalyse me.” He mumbled.

If only Claire knew Steve personally, she’d know they had plenty of differences. For example, Bucky enjoyed rom-coms, while Steve enjoyed sucking the very essence of life from everything he came near. Steve was an empty, cavernous husk of a man, and Bucky was a Pisces. There were just some small, but important differences between them.

“I just think maybe if you met these guys, you might not think so badly of them.”

 _If she only knew._ “Oh yeah?” He asked. “Do you happen to have a group of superheroes on hand that you could introduce me to?”

Claire opened her mouth to say something, paused, and then shook her head. “Anyway,” She said, changing the subject, “The Avengers were supposed to meet with the UN to sign the accords yesterday, but Cap never showed. Apparently he’s really butting heads with Stark now. Kinda sounds like they’re gonna tear themselves apart.”

“I doubt that.” He said quietly. He’d listened to enough of Steve’s late night rants about Stark to know that this was nothing new, this time they were just fighting in public instead of via text. Tossing his coffee cup in the trash, he patted Claire’s shoulder cheerfully. “I gotta get to work.”

“I’ll see you at lunch.”

Bucky paused, racking his brain for a few seconds. “Are we getting lunch?”

“I told you I’m buying you lunch today as a birthday present.” She reminded him. “You already set an alarm on your phone for it yesterday, you’re good.”  

“Oh, okay. See you at lunch then.” He said, leaving her behind as he headed over to the front desk to check in.

He’d naively hoped that he might be able to make it through the rest of the day without hearing any more about superheroes and their drama, but that hope was dashed almost immediately. All through the morning it seemed to be the only thing both patients and staff alike were talking about. A couple of times he had, admittedly, brought it on itself. When one of his regulars, Max, showed up needing another set of stitches on their eyebrow, he’d instinctively asked them to talk to him about something to keep their mind off the needle in their face.

“Well, what do you think about all the Stark and Cap drama?”

_Instant regret._

“Uh…” He said slowly, trying not to lose his focus. “It sure… sounds like a hell of a situation.”

“Oh my god, I know right? I mean is Cap like, not gonna be an Avenger now or what? Like they can’t just kick him out, right? He always seemed like such a nice guy, I can’t imagine him fighting with the others.”

Bucky hummed in response, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s just not the guy the media makes him out to be.”

Later on, Rafi, who was a notorious Avengers superfan, got him cornered while he was sorting through some records. Bucky couldn’t hate the guy. His daughter had been trapped in a building during the big New York battle a few years ago, and now the whole family saw them as their personal heroes. He couldn’t hate him, but he did do his best to avoid him most of the time. Unfortunately, he hadn’t succeed today, and had now been stuck with almost thirty minutes of listening to his complex theories about what was going on between Steve and Stark. He’d never been more glad to see hear his phone alarm, lighting up his screen with a reminder about his lunch date.

“So that’s why I think this whole thing is just a publicity stunt to cover up-”

“Yeah uh… sorry, Raf, I gotta go take my lunch break.” Bucky said abruptly, getting to his feet. “You can tell me more about this when I get back, yeah?”  

Rafi chuckled to himself, patting him on the shoulder and smirking at him. “Don’t worry about it, I know you hate them. I only do this to see how much patience you have. Have a good lunch, man.”

Bemused, Bucky nodded and made his way to the food court. It was busier than usual. The clattering of cutlery and the continuous chatter as groups of people talked among themselves made it hard for him to get his thoughts in order at first, and it was a few moments before he spotted Claire sat at a table by the far windows, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly. She looked up when he approached, smiling and waving cheerily at him.

“Behold,” She announced, gesturing to the table, “Your birthday banquet.”  

Bucky snorted, looking down at the carefully arranged baskets of fries, bread, chicken strips, and salad.

“An assortment of sides for the birthday boy.” She said proudly. “I was gonna get mash too, but it was kinda grey looking so I figured you’d pass.”

“Yeah that was a good call.” Bucky chuckled as he sat down, grabbing a handful of fries and tossing one in his mouth. “Now I’m begging you, literally begging you to talk to me about something other than the Avengers.”

Claire laughed at him, shaking her head and leaning back in her seat. “I’ll do my best.” She sniggered. “So, you got any big birthday plans? Chris taking you out somewhere?”

“Uh, I think we’re doing _something_.” Bucky said, racking his brain for a moment before sighing in defeat and pulling out his phone. “Yeah,” He nodded as he read through his reminders. “He said he’s gonna cook dinner for me.”

“Sounds nice.”

“I guess.”

“Try to contain your enthusiasm.” Claire said flatly, taking a sip of her drink. “How long has it been now?”

Bucky paused. It wasn’t too long ago on a night out with some friends from work that he’d met Chris. He’d still been moping about and feeling sorry for himself after being fucked over by a certain star spangled bag of dicks, which was why Claire and a couple of the girls convinced him to go and talk to him. One thing lead to another, they went back to his place, and somehow he’d ended up with a boyfriend.

“Almost two months.” Bucky said after counting the weeks on his fingers.

“Uh huh. You know when I said you should hook up with him, I did _only_ mean a hook-up. Something to help you move on.”

“I have moved on.” He insisted. “Chris is nice. Maybe a little clingy, but he’s nice.”

“You don’t like him. You have a fear of abandonment and now you’ve latched on to somebody you have absolutely no romantic feelings for because you’d rather tolerate him than be alone.”

Bucky blinked at her, taking a small bite of bread. “I told you not to psychoanalyse me.”

“But you make it so easy.” She protested. “Psychologists could write their theses on you.”

“I know, but you don’t have to point it out every day.” He mumbled. “I should probably check if he’s messaged me actually.”

“You just had your phone out, surely you’d have seen it.”

“I turned the notifications off on our chat because he was texting me too much.”

Claire threw her hands up in disbelief. “But I’m out of line for saying you don’t like him?”

“I do like him! He can just be a little intense. Listen to this.” Bucky said as he opened his unread texts. “At 12:01am he said ‘happy birthday baby’ with like, three of every heart emoji.”

“That’s not so bad, that’s cute.”

“Yeah that’s cute, but then forty minutes later he sent another text that’s just pure heart emojis. Then at 7am he sent me a good morning text, also said happy birthday again, then more hearts. Then an hour ago he said ‘can’t wait to see you tonight’ with more hearts, then there’s another text that’s just hearts again. Honestly Claire I’m half tempted to smash his phone and buy him a Nokia.”

“Okay.” Claire said, nodding her head slowly. “He is intense. Which just proves my point even more. You should break up with him.”

“I’m not breaking up with him.”

“He must eat ass like a starved man.” Claire muttered, turning away from him.

Shaking his head, Bucky leant back on his chair and shrugged. “Honestly the sex isn’t that great either.”

“Oh my god.” She said quietly, not making eye contact with him.

“I know, I know. Why am I still with him if I’m not even getting good sex out of it? Well frankly, Claire, I think it’s pretty shallow that you think I should-”

“Shush.” Claire snapped, holding her hand up to his face.

“Did you just shush me? On my _birthday?_ ”

“Bucky, look.” She insisted, nodding behind him.

Frowning, he turned in his chair and followed her gaze.

Small crowds had gathered in the cafeteria around each of the TV screens hanging on the walls, everyone staring up intently. When Bucky saw Steve’s face plastered all over them he almost turned back around, until he read the news caption.

**“CAPTAIN AMERICA DEAD?”**

Bucky felt his heart drop into his stomach as he read and reread it over and over.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, looking back over at Claire in disbelief. “That’s gotta be bullshit right?”

“It’s gotta be, come on.” She said as she stood up, walking with him to the nearest TV so they could hear the news report.

 _“After rising tensions between Tony Stark and Captain America over the Sokovia Accords, there have been multiple reports today of an explosive fight between the two.”_  

The reporter’s voice echoed around the room as everybody fell silent, watching the recorded clips of Tony and Steve fighting. The video was fuzzy and distant, but it was clear enough to see that Tony was shooting. Around the room people started mumbling among each other.

“Are they in a carpark?”

“I think it’s an airport.”

“What the hell are they doing in an airport?”

_“Mr Stark has since been seen leaving the scene, but there have been no reported sightings of Captain Rogers since the fight.”_

He looked away as the report cut to two so called “superhero experts” debating whether or not Iron Man would ever kill another Avenger, turning back to Claire, who was looking at him with a slightly pained expression.

“Are you okay?” He asked, frowning at her.

“Yeah, uh, can you let go of my arm?”

Looking down, he realised he’d grabbed her instinctively while watching the TV, immediately releasing her grip and looking back up at her apologetically.

“Jeeze, that prosthetic has a hell of a grip.” She said, chuckling as she rubbed her arm.

Nodding, he looked down at his hand. He kept it covered up with long sleeved shirts and gloves when he was at work. Patients tended to find a metal arm somewhat intimidating. Especially when the guy it belonged to was about to stick them with a needle.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, shoving his hand in his pocket. “I was uh… This is…” He gestured up at the TV, incapable of forming a complete sentence.

“Yeah.” Claire nodded. “There’s no way this is true though, right?”

Bucky didn’t say anything. His mind was racing with more thoughts than he could process. He still _hated_ Steve, but he didn’t want him to be hurt, and he definitely didn’t want him to be _dead_. He felt sick, he felt confused and scared, but overwhelmingly he felt angry. Angry at himself for letting this affect him, when he was supposed to have moved on from all this nonsense. Angry at Steve for getting into such stupid situations. Angry at everyone in the room acting like this affected them in any way. One woman was staring up at the TV crying, and it just infuriated him. She didn’t know him. Bucky knew him. Sure, he didn’t like him, but he still _knew_ him.

“Hey.” Claire said, putting a hand on his shoulder and bringing him back into reality. “You okay?”

“I…” He started, unable to think of a good answer. “I’m…”

“You had your meds this morning, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I think so. It’s not an attack or anything I just… I need a cigarette.” He decided.

Claire frowned at him. “I thought you quit. Like, years ago.”

“I did.” He said firmly, marching over to the doors while she followed along behind.

Luckily, he was friends with most of the staff at the hospital, and it was pretty easy to find someone willing to lend him a cigarette.

“You look like you need it, dude.” Riley, one of the junior doctors, said as she handed him one from her pocket. “What the hell happened?”

“It’s just been a rough morning.” Bucky told her, thanking her before sitting down on the steps where Claire was waiting.

She watched him as he took a couple of drags, snorting when he grimaced at the bitter taste.

“Jesus that’s disgusting.” He muttered. “How was I addicted to these?”

“I don’t know, but you better not be about to relapse. I’m not dealing with your cold turkey crankiness a second time.” Claire mumbled, resting her chin on her hand and frowning at him. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You just almost had a panic attack over a news piece about someone you openly hate.” She said flatly. “That’s not nothing.”

“I’ve been on edge all morning.” He lied. “I guess that was enough of a shock to tip me over.”

Claire didn’t look convinced, but she left it alone, patting his should comfortingly and getting to her feet. “I gotta get back to work, are you gonna be alright?”

“Yeah. My shift ends in two hours and then I’ll be at Chris’ for the rest of the day.”

“Ah yes, what could cheer you up more than mediocre sex with a guy you’re not into?” She said dryly, laughing when Bucky flipped her off. “Look after yourself, Buck.”

He got through the rest of his shift in a blur. It was like his body was an autopilot, and he was just a backseat passenger. By the time he clocked out he was completely drained and half tempted to cancel his plans at the last minute, but he knew he’d only get more wrapped up in his own thoughts if he stayed in his own. He made a quick detour back home, tossing his scrubs onto the pile of dirty laundry in the corner of the bedroom and changing into jeans and a sweater. The whole time repeating to himself that he still had to go to dinner. Once he’d refilled Star’s food bowl and given him some affectionate head scratches, he was back out the door and on his way to Chris’ apartment.

When he arrived he was greeted at the door not by his boyfriend, but by a giant teddy bear, and the smallest of smiles crept onto his face when Chris’ head popped out from behind it, grinning at him.

“Happy birthday, babe!” He said excitedly, waving the bear in Bucky’s face.

Bucky shook his head, shoving the bear away and squeezing past it to get through the doorway.

“You’re an idiot.” He sniggered as Chris leant over to kiss his cheek. “You realise I only have a small apartment, right? The one you got me for Valentines is already taking up most of my bedroom.”

“Hmm.” Chris said thoughtfully, looking down at the bear in his arms. “I guess he’ll have to live with me.”

“I guess so.” Bucky mumbled, the temporary amusement at the sight of the bear already starting to wear off.

Chris frowned at him, tilting Bucky’s chin up to look at him. “Are you okay? Do you not like it?”

“What? No I like it!” He insisted, taking the bear into his arms and squeezing it. “I’m just… it’s been a shitty day to be honest.”

“Oh, that sucks.” Chris said in his usual flat tone. “Because of all that stuff with he-who-must-not-be-named.”

“It would be _so_ much faster if you just named him.”

“Right. You know, one day I’m gonna get you crazy drunk and make you tell me why you hate him so much.”

“Little rapey, dude.”

For reasons unbeknownst to him, Chris laughed at that, draping his arm around him and leading him down the hall.

“You know,” He said as they walked. “My friends always tell me I kinda look like him.”

Bucky snorted. “Your friends think you look like Captain America? How many shots do you have to get into them first?”

“I’m serious, they bring it up all the time.” He insisted. “You don’t think so?”

“Babe, no offense,” He said as he looked up at him, scanning his profile for a moment, “Okay, I guess maybe you have a similar nose, and your eyes are kind of the same shape… and… oh Jesus fucking Christ you really do look like him.”

It was hard to tell whether Bucky was doing a good job at hiding the absolute abject horror he was feeling, or if Chris was just being his usual oblivious self, but he just grinned cheerfully at him.

“So you do see it?”

“Yeah uh… I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” Bucky said quietly, handing the bear over to him and heading up the stairs as fast as it was possible to go without looking suspicious. Not that Chris would have noticed either way. He could have crawled up those stairs like the fucking exorcist and he would have just watched with that same half-baked expression.

When he reached the bathroom, he locked the door and stood against it, staring at the blank wall opposite him. Two months. Two. Whole. Months. For two months he’d been dating this guy and not noticed that he bore a _striking_ resemblance to the ex he was rebounding from. No, not rebounding. That would imply that he wasn’t over Steve, which he obviously was. Of course, if Sigmund Freud were here he’d probably have other ideas, and then he’d say something about his deep rooted abandonment issues which _probably_ stemmed from the loss of his father and-

“Jesus. Where did that come from?” He muttered to himself. “This is fine. It’s not like he looks _exactly_ like him. What? Am I just never gonna date blond men with strong jawlines again? This is stupid. Maybe blonds are just my type. Steve’s the first blond guy I’ve dated but that doesn’t mean blonds aren’t my type. There’s only, like, three hair colours anyway so there’s a one in three chance that I’d date another blond after Steve, that doesn’t mean I’m subconsciously seeking out and latching on to people who look like him. I’m totally moving on.”

Part of him wanted to text Claire for help, but she’d only tell him the truth. And the truth was the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear right now. Sighing to himself, he walked over to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror and took a couple of deep breaths, pulling his hair out of the bun he’d tied it in and combing his fingers through it.

“Okay,” He told his reflection, pointing a finger at himself. “You’re gonna go downstairs, you’re gonna eat dinner, and you’re gonna have a nice, normal night, with your nice, normal boyfriend, like a fucking normal person.”

Nodding to himself, he went back downstairs to the kitchen where Chris was humming to himself and stirring a pot of sauce.

“What’cha cooking?” Bucky asked as he hoisted himself up onto the counter, peering down at the brown sludge he was stirring.

“Well, it was _supposed_ to be Bolognese.” Chris started, “But the mince I had in the fridge was expired so I used lentils instead. So now it’s vegan Bolognese. The blogger I found on google says it’ll taste just as good.”

“That fills me with confidence.”

“I also bought a fuckload of garlic bread so we can eat that if it tastes bad.”

“You’re so good to me.” Bucky said, smirking at him.

While he cooked they talked about the usual stuff. Chris told him about the new member that had joined his gym, Bucky remained flagrantly uninterested. He talked about a problem he’d had with a patient’s medical records, Chris nodded along like he understood a single word he was saying. How this relationship had lasted longer than two weeks was beyond him. At least Bucky got some company out of it, and something to do with his time other than sit alone in his apartment contemplating the gaping hole in his soul. He had no idea what Chris gained from this whole thing. There had to be something more than the five minutes of weekly sex keeping him around, but he could definitely rule out engaging conversation as a possibility.

The food, much like this whole relationship, was bland, and the birthday cake Chris had bought tasted of solid sugar. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful. Well, maybe a little. But they’d had an entire conversation just last week about how much he hated cakes with too much frosting.

Once they’d finished eating they sat on the couch together and put the TV on, continuing with the same mundane small talk. Chris was halfway through telling him about why the replacement weights on the weightlifting machine weren’t as good as the old ones, and Bucky was close to dozing off on his shoulder, when a full volume news bulletin startled them both. The words “Captain America” flashed up on the screen and Bucky immediately sat upright.

“It’s just more about that Cap thing.” Chris mumbled as he grabbed the remote. “I’ll turn it off.”

“No!” Bucky yelled, lurching forward and slapping the remote out of his hand. “I wanna see it.”

“Jeeze, okay.”

They both watched the screen as the reporter repeated the earlier story.

_“However, the last hour we have received footage of Captain Rogers leaving the scene of the fight.”_

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat as they played the blurry video of Steve limping out of the airport, and he slumped back on the couch as a wave of different conflicting emotions washed over him.

“Fuck me, he’s alive after all.” Chris mumbled.

“He’s alive.” Bucky repeated quietly. “He’s not dead.”

“Looks like hell though.”

_“After his attempt to sabotage the United Nations and the Sokovia Accords, and his subsequent attack on Tony Stark, police are now launching a full scale search for Rogers, and are asking anyone with any information on his whereabouts to come forward immediately.”_

The cameras cut to the Washington chief of police, looking just as grizzly and unapproachable as usual.

_“I know a lot of you see Captain Rogers as some kind of hero, but as of right now, he’s a fugitive. Despite what you think you know about him, I urge you not to protect him. This man is a criminal, and a thug, and-”_

“Okay you can turn that shit off now.” Bucky muttered, grabbing the remote from the floor and tossing it into Chris’ lap.

“Babe, just yesterday you referred to Cap as a reckless vigilante with a god complex and anger problems.” Chris said as he switched the TV off. “But now you’re mad because the chief of police called him a thug?”

Folding his arms defensively, Bucky shrugged. “Maybe thinking the guy was dead for a few hours gave me some perspective.” _Or maybe I only say those things as a defence mechanism to cover up how important he still- Nope! Not going there!_

“Either way,” Chris said, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “The guy’s been a fugitive before.”

“Not this publicly.” Bucky mumbled. “Usually it’s Nazi organisations or supervillains painting him as the bad guy. This time it’s normal people.”

“I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

Bucky wasn’t particularly convinced, but he nodded, slumping back down and leaning his head on Chris’ arm. They sat in silence for a while, and for once he wished Chris would come out with another of his gym stories, just to distract him from the whirlwind of thoughts in his head. For the second time today the overwhelming feeling was anger. Only this time none of the anger was directed at Steve, and he hated that. It was easy to hate Steve when the rest of the world was lifting him up, but now that they’d turned against him everything in him wanted to jump to his defence. What he wouldn’t give to just stop caring all together instead of going through a moral dilemma every time a news piece came on the TV.

“Wanna make out?” Chris asked after a while, jolting Bucky out of his thoughts.

Sitting up, he stared at him in confusion for a few seconds. “What?”

Chris’ inability to read a room never ceased to amaze him. He could send heart emoji filled texts in their hundreds, but if Bucky showed even the slightest hint of emotion in person, he just shut down.

“I said-”

“I heard what you said.” Bucky interrupted. “I just… I don’t know. I think I’m gonna go home.”

“Did I do something?”

“No.” Bucky mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to collect his thoughts together. “It’s not you I just… it’s been a weird day and I feel like shit. I just wanna go to bed.”

“Okay.” _Wow, don’t strain yourself trying to console me_. “You want me to drive you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Chris just watched as he stood up and headed for the door, pulling his shoes on and grabbing his jacket.

“Uh, I’ll see you later then?” Bucky said as he stood by the door, waving when Chris looked over.

“Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay… bye.”

He walked down the drive to his car feeling more awkward than anything else, but that was nothing new. Perks of dating an emotionally stunted gym enthusiast. Chris always got weird whenever he showed the slightest hint of any emotion that wasn’t happiness, and Bucky was a mess of emotions pretty often. _Why_ was he still dating this guy?

When he got home he headed straight for his bedroom, ditching his current clothes and digging through his drawers until he found an old worn out t-shirt to throw on.

“Hey, man.” He said as he flopped down onto the bed where Star was sat. “How’s your day been?”

Star meowed at him, rolling onto his back and stretching his legs out.

“Uh huh, important business.” He nodded. “Wait ‘til you hear about the fucking day I’ve had. So _first_ of all-”

He was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing in the pocket of his jeans, which were in a heap on the floor at the other end of the bed.

“Shit. Star go get my phone for me will ya?”

Star stared at him blankly and he groaned, crawling across the bed and reaching down to grab it. “’Get a therapy cat’ they said. ‘It’ll make your life so much easier’ they said. And yet you can’t even do something as simple as fetch my phone? Fucking useless.”

His stomach flipped when he saw who was calling him. Clearly there was no getting out of facing his emotions today.

“Hey, mom.” He said cautiously, hitting speaker phone and dropping the phone onto the mattress. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” His mom’s voice echoed around the room. “What’s _up_? I have been trying to call you for three hours! Where the hell have you been?”

“Oh, shit, I was at Chris’. There’s literally no service in his house. As if I don’t feel isolated enough in his company as it is.”

“Christ, you’re still with him?”

“Yes?”

“Mmkay. Well we need to talk, so if you’d answer your skype calls I’d appreciate it.”

“Is this talk going to have anything to do with certain recent news events which may or may not personally relate to me?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

“Can I grab some comfort snacks first?”

There was a pause, and for a moment he thought she’d already hung up on him, until finally she spoke again. “You have five minutes.”

Hitting the hang up button, he leapt to his feet and headed to the kitchen to grab as many snacks as he could find. Armed with a bar of chocolate, half a tube of Pringles, and some leftover pizza he found in the fridge, he grabbed his laptop and settled himself on the couch.

His mom answered the call immediately, and the sight of her face flashing up on the screen made him smile. Her long hair was pulled up into a bun and she was sat, like him, curled up on the couch in her bathrobe with a glass of wine in her hand.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She said in a much softer tone than on the phone. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” He smirked. “Is that your first glass or one of many?”

“I think I’m within my rights to unwind with several small glasses of wine, given that my son hasn’t been returning my calls all day.” She muttered, taking a sip from her glass and frowning at him.

“I told you that wasn’t my fault!”

“It absolutely is your fault.” She said sternly. “If you weren’t so insistent on clinging to an empty relationship that’s going nowhere, this would never have happened.”

Bucky opened his mouth to defend himself but found himself at a loss for a good argument. “Okay fair enough.” He mumbled, pursing his lips and looking down at his hands. “He got me another giant bear for my birthday.”

“Christ.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” She sighed, setting her glass down, “That’s a whole other conversation that we need to have. I saw the news, how are you doing?”

“You mean after spending half the day thinking my ex-boyfriend was dead and then finding out that he’s alive but also a wanted criminal? I’m not doing great honestly!”

Obviously, the whole “nobody can ever know about my superhero boyfriend” deal excluded his mother. He had _tried_ to hide it, and succeeded for a whole three days before she sensed something was up and he confessed everything. Steve hadn’t been too pleased about it at first, but his mom was a pretty easy person to love, and it didn’t take long for her to become one of his favourite people.

Letting out a defeated sigh, he grabbed a cold slice of pizza and took a huge bite. “I don’t know.” He said with his mouth full. “I feel like, because he was such a complete ass to me, I shouldn’t give a shit about bad things happening.”

“But you do.”

“Obviously.” He muttered. “Maybe it’s just because I’m a nurse and I have a naturally compassionate nature?”

His mom cocked an eyebrow at him and picked up her wine glass, taking a large swig before looking back up at him.

“That’s bullshit.” She said flatly. “He was a big part of your life for a long time. It’s normal for you to still care about him.”

“Would you be upset if you found out dad was dead?”

“Sweetheart, if I knew that man’s whereabouts I’d kill him myself.”

“Okay that was a bad example.” He admitted. “But my point is it’s been over a year, but it still feels like he left yesterday.”

“Well, it’s gotta be hard to get over a guy when you’re constantly hearing about him, right?”

“I guess.”

“And it doesn’t help that you’re trying to force yourself to move on with a guy you don’t like, instead of actually dealing with your feelings.”

“Okay, mom, jeeze.” He said, taking another bite of pizza. “Oh, speaking of, turns out Chris looks strikingly similar to Steve, and I only noticed today. So now I’m dealing with that too.”

His mom blinked at him for a moment, downing the last of her wine and shaking her head. “Honey, this is why you need to introduce me to the men you’re seeing as soon as possible. So I can point these things out to you.”

“I know, but I can’t risk him thinking this is a serious relationship.”

“This is such a mess.”

“Yeah.”

They talked for over an hour, and by the time they’d said goodnight and hung up, he’d almost eaten his way through his snack pile. Shit. Was he comfort eating? Probably. Sighing to himself, he shoved the empty packaging to the other side of the couch, assuring himself that he’d clear them away at some point, and laid back against the arm of the chair, scrolling mindlessly through twitter for a while. A rainstorm had started outside half an hour ago, and just the sound of it was starting to send him to sleep. The sound of rain had always relaxed him. After a few minutes of desperately trying to keep his eyes open he gave up, closing his laptop in defeat. Too tired to even bother getting up, he rolled onto his side and nestled his head on one of the cushions, listening to the rain against the windows as he fell asleep.

A loud clap of thunder outside jolted him awake with a start. Groaning, he sat upright and squinted as his eyes readjusted to the lights in the room.

“Fuck.” He grumbled, running his fingers through his tangled hair and looking down at Star, who was lying by his feet. “What time is it?”

Star meowed at him and he rolled his eyes. “Learn to read clocks, idiot.”

He reached for his laptop and cracked it open just enough to read the time. 2:57am.

“Shit.” He said to himself as he got to his feet, staggering groggily across the room to the kitchen to get some water.

The storm outside had worsened. He could hear the wind howling outside, and looked out the window just in time to see a fork of lightning light up the sky. Hugging himself with his free arm, he leant against the kitchen counter and sipped at his water. He was just starting to lose himself in a daydream about his plans for tomorrow when he heard a knock on the door.

At least, it sounded like a knock on the door. It was so faint that he was almost certain he’d imagined it. Setting his glass down on the side, he took a cautious step over to the door. He tried to listen for any sign that someone was on the other side, but the sound of the wind and the rain outside drowned out any other noise. Then the knocking came again, much louder this time, startling him and sending him staggering backwards a few steps. He’d seen enough horror movies to know that if somebody is knocking on your door at 3am, you probably shouldn’t open it. Especially if you live in an apartment building that can only be accessed with a key. Unfortunately, Bucky was an idiot with a history of poor decision making and nothing left to lose. So, despite his heart pounding frantically in his chest, and every instinct in his body telling him not to, he crept closer to the door, keeping the chain on and cracking the door open just enough to peer through.

In the hallway, dripping wet and shaking from the cold, was Steve.

Bucky’s whole body went numb in a state of complete shock, and he found himself frozen on the spot, his mouth hanging open, just staring at him for at least a minute.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve said apprehensively. “How are you?”

“How _am_ I?” Bucky exclaimed, his grasp on the English language returning to him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I… well… see… it’s kind of a long story.”

“You made enemies with a monarch, managed to fuck over the entire United Nations, got into a pissing contest with Stark, and now the US government wants to arrest you _again_. Not that long of a story.”

“Okay, fair enough. But-”

“And now, somehow, your walnut sized brain thought the best move would be to come back to Brooklyn, as if every single person in the country doesn’t know that’s where you live. Shouldn’t you be in Timbuktu by now? And on top of that-”

“Buck, I need somewhere to stay.” Steve interrupted, looking at him seriously. “Can I come in?”

Bucky stared at him in utter disbelief, trying to process what he’d said. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. _That’s_ why you’re here?”

“Yes? Did you think, whilst on the run from the law, I suddenly thought ‘hey, now would be a really great time to stop off and chat to my ex?’?”

“I just thought that maybe you were clinging on to the last, tiny scrap of sense left in your body. But clearly I read you wrong. Clearly you have actually gone insane. I’m not sure whether to call the authorities or the fucking hospital.”

“Okay, Buck, I get that this is a lot to spring on you at 3am and I’m sorry.” Steve said, looking anxiously over both shoulders before turning back to him. “But I really, seriously need you to stop yelling. If you’re not gonna let me in that’s fine but if anybody gets any idea that you know me, your life’s gonna be hell.”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue but paused. He hated when Steve was right. Chewing on his lip, he folded his arms defensively and asked him again, less aggressively this time, “What are you doing here?”

“Like you said, I thought about just getting out of the country, but they’ve upped security everywhere and now the public’s looking out for me too so it’s not like… I’m not a spy, I’m not great at the whole undercover thing.” Steve said, looking at him desperately. “ _Nobody_ knows that I know you. Unless they decide to search every household in all of New York, there’s no way they’ll think to look here. Buck, I’ve never had the luxury of a secret identity I’ve just got-”

“Me.” Bucky finished. The words sent a sharp pain through his chest and he could feel his resolve starting to melt away.

“Look, I know this is super weird, and that things ended really badly, and I’m probably the last person you want crashing on your couch right now. If you want me to go I’ll go.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head in defeat, sliding the chain off the latch and opening the door fully. Steve looked just as shocked as Bucky felt that he was actually letting him inside, stepping in and closing the door gently.

“How did you even get in the building?” Bucky asked as he walked over to the bathroom to grab a towel. “Did you trick one of the old ladies across the hall into buzzing you in?”

“No, I uh… I broke in through the window.” Steve admitted. “I already have a warrant out for my arrest. Figured I didn’t have much to lose at this point.”

“Why didn’t you just break in through my window?”

“Because I’m not a sociopath?”

Bucky scoffed at that but said nothing, handing him the towel and looking him up and down as he started drying off his hair. He’d already ditched the top half of his uniform, but he still had the pants and boots on, plus a black duffle bag swung over his shoulder. There was something missing though, and it took Bucky a few moments to place it.

“Where’s your shield?”

Pausing, Steve draped the towel over his shoulders and shrugged. “I left it with Stark.”

“You just… left it?”

Steve nodded and Bucky threw his arms up in disbelief. “You left your _shield_? So if the fucking FBI or whatever break into my apartment tomorrow, I’m supposed to just hope they _don’t_ shoot us?”

“I’m not gonna let you get hurt, Buck.”

“How very heroic of you.”

“Okay,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a breath. “I get that you’re mad at me and you have every right to be-”

“I sure do!” Bucky agreed. “After a fucking two and a half year relationship, all I was worth to you was a scrap of paper left next to my bed. And after all the shit I went along with because I was fucking _in love with you_ , and everything I told you about me because I _trusted you_ , you didn’t even think I deserved a fucking goodbye, or maybe even some kind of explanation about _why_ you left. Instead, after _everything_ , you just disappeared, and I had no idea what I did wrong, or if I was ever gonna see you again, and you just fucking broke my heart and ruined everything, and I’ve thought about this exact thing happening so many times. I’ve spent almost a year imagining you coming back and imagining everything I would say to you and now you’re here and I have no fucking clue where to even _begin_ and… I mean Jesus Christ Steve I thought you were _dead_ this afternoon and now you’re in my fucking apartment? I mean what the fuck?”

He felt tears starting to sting his eyes and he spun around, keeping his back to Steve as he wiped them away.

“I hate you so much.” He said after a while, sniffling and turning back to face him.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Steve said quietly.

They both stared at each other, for what felt like an eternity, and Bucky found himself at a complete loss for something to say. Scratching his head awkwardly, he glanced down at Steve’s stomach, frowning when he spotted the bright red stain on his undershirt.

“Is that… is that your blood or someone else’s?” He asked, taking a step towards him and reaching out instinctively to get a closer look.

“Uh…” Steve looked down at his shirt. “That’s me.”

That was all it took for him to make the switch from Emotional Bucky to Nurse Bucky. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed Steve by the arm and dragged him over to the couch.

“Sit down and take your shirt off.” He instructed, scooping up the empty food packages that he’d left on the couch and throwing them in the trash. When he turned back around Steve was blushing. Fucking _blushing_.

“What?” He demanded as he manhandled Steve’s shirt over his head.

“Nothing it’s just… been a while since you used your dominant voice with me.” Steve said quietly, avoiding his eyes as Bucky stared at him in disbelief.

“Steve I swear to God if you have a boner right now-”

“I don’t!”

“I will call the cops my damn self and leave you to bleed out on the fucking street.”

“I don’t.” Steve said again, muttering to himself while Bucky got to work examining him.

There were plenty of scars on Steve’s chest, Bucky had seen those hundreds of times. In fact, at one point he knew all of them by heart, and could trace over them absentmindedly with his eyes closed. Shaking his head, he tried to focus on the open wound on Steve’s stomach, which he figured was the source of the bleeding. Grabbing the discarded shirt from the arm of the couch, he balled it up and guided Steve’s hand to press down on it. The cut looked bad, but his attention was more drawn to the patches of bright red, raised skin on his chest.

“Are these burns?” He asked, running his fingers over the warm marks.

“Yeah, those’ll heal fine.”

“I know that, you idiot, but why the hell do you have _burns_ on your chest?”

“Tony shot me.” Steve said nonchalantly, lifting his free hand up and mimicking the suit. “Those things are pretty hot.”

“You’re remarkably calm about that.”

“He’s shot me before.”

“You need new friends.”

“Yeah. How long are you planning on stroking my chest for?”

Bucky paused, looking down at his dirty, evil, treacherous hand, which was still delicately tracing the burns on his chest. Flicking a lock of hair out of his face, he looked back up at Steve confidently.

“I’m just checking it… medically.”

“Right.” Steve nodded. “Can I ask something else?”

“Sure.”

“Are you wearing my shirt right now?”

 _Shit_.

“No. This is my shirt.” _Shit. Fuck. It’s definitely his shirt._

“It’s two sizes too big for you.”

 _That’s because it’s your shirt you unnecessarily huge man._ “I know. I bought it… for pyjamas.”

Steve stared at him and Bucky stared back, too proud to climb out of the ridiculous hole he’d dug for himself.

“So I’m gonna go get my sewing kit to stitch this up,” Bucky said, patting the wound Steve was pressing on hard enough to make him wince. “And also get you some clothes.”

“I’m not sure your clothes are gonna fit me. Unless you’re buying all your shirts two sizes up now.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him as he got to his feet. “My _boyfriend_ keeps a few spare clothes here.” _Okay there was no need to emphasise it like that_. “He’s a bit of a gym nut so they should fit you okay.”

Turning on his heel, he walked proudly to the bedroom and closed the door behind him, leaning his head against the door for a moment and trying to process everything. After everything today, now would be the time for him to feel angry. Now, more than ever, he’d be completely justified, but no matter how much he willed himself to feel that way, he didn’t. He couldn’t. In fact, more than anything else right now, he felt relieved. This whole day had been heavy with unknowns. Not knowing whether Steve was alive, not knowing if he was okay, and not knowing where he was. Sure, there were about a hundred places he’d rather Steve be than on his couch, but he knew where he was, and he knew he was okay. A little battered, but okay.

As much as it pained him to admit, just having Steve back in his apartment had reignited something in him. A faint glowing ember in the pit of his stomach that was making his heart beat just half a second faster. It wasn’t much, certainly not enough to make him even consider forgiving what Steve did to him, but still it was more than he’d felt in the entire time he’d been with Chris.

“God dammit.” He mumbled to himself, bringing himself back into reality and          getting down on all fours to retrieve the medical kit from under his bed. “And where the hell have you been?” He asked when Star poked his head out from the shadows. “Get out there and show me some support.”

Star meowed at him, scurrying out and clawing at the door until Bucky pushed it open, grabbing one of Chris’ shirts and a pair of sweatpants from the untidy pile on the chair before following him back out.

“Hey, buddy!” Steve said excitedly when Star hopped onto his lap, purring loudly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, shooing Star out of the way and setting the medical kit down on the couch.

“Fucking traitor.” He muttered as Star curled up next to Steve, rubbing his face against his leg and meowing happily.

“Maybe he likes me because I don’t verbally abuse him.” Steve suggested as he scratched Star’s head.

“He likes you because he doesn’t know what a douchebag is, let alone how to identify one.” Bucky said flatly. “Now lie back so I can clean this.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve leant back against the couch, silently giving Bucky the go ahead.

“So uh,” He said quietly as Bucky started carefully going over the wound with an antibacterial wipe. “New boyfriend?”

“We’re not discussing this.”

“I wasn’t… I just wanna know how you’ve been. You know, since I last saw you.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, sitting upright and tossing the wipe into the trash.

“You mean since you dumped me?”

“I didn’t _technically_ dump you.”

“And I’m not _technically_ bound by any code of ethics right now, which means there’s nothing to stop me from pouring an entire bottle of isopropyl alcohol directly into this open wound.”

Steve nodded, slumping against the couch in defeat and staying silent.

“Okay, I’m about to take a very sharp needle to your skin, so I’d advise against saying anything else to piss me off right now.”

He took Steve’s continued silence as an agreement and got to work stitching the wound up.

There was a tension in the air, and time seemed to stretch out endlessly. By the time he’d finished the stitches it felt like he’d been staring at Steve’s stomach for hours. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he sat upright and brushed his hair out of his face.

“Okay,” he said as he packed the medical kit back up. “You’re all fixed. Should be healed up by morning.”

Scooping up the clothes he’d brought out, he thrust them into Steve’s arms. “These should fit you. I’m off work tomorrow so I can go out and get some extra shirts and stuff.”

“You don’t have to do that, Buck. These are fine.”

“You’re gonna need more than one pair of pants and a shirt, you moron. If you’re gonna be living in my home you’re gonna wear clean clothes.”

The tiniest of smiles crept onto Steve’s face as he got to his feet, heading over to the bathroom.

“I’m gonna make coffee if you want one.” Bucky called after him, walking past him to the kitchen.

Steve frowned, watching him as he searched the shelves. “It’s 3:30am.”

“Yeah.” Bucky said, turning back around to face him. “It’s 3:30am, and my ex-boyfriend, who also happens to be Captain America, who _also_ happens to be on the run from the authorities, is in my apartment. Nothing makes sense. Now do you want the coffee or not?”

Smirking, Steve nodded before disappearing into the bathroom.

Bucky went into autopilot making the drinks. It was odd, the way his brain worked. He couldn’t remember to go to appointments, or to eat at regular times of day, but he could remember exactly how Steve liked his coffee, right down to which mug he liked best. He finished just as Steve came out of the bathroom in the clean clothes. They fit perfectly, which served as another unwelcome reminder of how similar he was to Chris.

They sat back on the couch together and drank in silence for a few minutes until Steve finally broke the silence.

“I like your new hair, by the way.” He said quietly. “It looks good.”

Bucky blinked at him, taken aback slightly. “Oh…” He said as he ran his fingers through the long strands. “Thanks.”

He’d had his hair grown out for so long now, he’d completely forgotten it was cut short when he was with Steve.

“Most people thought this was just part of my spiralling mental breakdown.” He mumbled, remembering all the concerned comments he’d gotten when it started to get longer.

“Things were that bad?”

“Yeah, Steve, they were! Surprisingly enough the guy with known abandonment issues was in a pretty bad way after you abandoned him.” Bucky snapped. “I mean what? Did you think I was just gonna move straight on with my life and forget it ever happened? I was in love with you, you asshole.”

“I loved you too but-”

“No you didn’t. You don’t do that to someone you love.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but quickly shut it again and fell silent, looking down at his mug and sighing sadly.

“I’m really sorry, Bucky.” He mumbled after a while. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I’m sorry.”

“I’m not gonna forgive you. Ever.” Bucky said, setting his mug forcefully down on the coffee table and getting to his feet. “I’m going to bed.”

He made it halfway to the door before he heard Steve call him again.

“Buck?” He asked timidly, looking up at him when Bucky turned around. “Happy birthday.”

Bucky stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief before turning and pushing his bedroom door open.

“Fucking unbelievable.” He muttered as he closed the door behind him, just loud enough to make a point.

He stood against the door for a few minutes before realising someone was missing. Cracking the door open again, he whistled to Star, slamming the door shut again as soon as the cat had scurried in. Sighing, he collapsed down onto the bed, beckoning Star over and burying his face in his fur.

“Star, do you think I’m a bad person?”

Star wriggled out of his arms, curling up on his chest and looking at him blankly.

“I mean, obviously you don’t. You’re a cat. All you care about is whether or not I feed you.” Bucky mumbled, scooting up the bed and nestling his head back against the pillows. “Still though, I know I’m not a saint or anything, but I don’t think I’ve ever done anything bad enough to deserve all this bullshit.”

He was wide awake, no thanks to the cup of coffee he’d just chugged, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to sleep anyway. What he really wanted to do was lie there and cry for a couple of hours, but with Steve sat just outside the door that wasn’t really an option. Things were already awkward enough.

Shooing Star off his chest, he pulled the duvet up to his chin and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into, and how this had all started.


	2. The Intruder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky looks back on his past with Steve. How everything started, and how it ended.

There was a storm the first night he ever met Steve. He could still vividly remember the sound of the rain hammering against the windows as he sat hunched over his desk. His shift had technically ended an hour ago, but he’d forgotten to update a few patient’s medication records and was now frantically trying to correct everything before anybody noticed a problem. Groaning, he leant back in his chair and took a large gulp of coffee, his third that evening, and glanced up at the clock. Almost midnight. As he powered on through the files he asked himself whether four years of med school was worth it. He could have just lived out his life making handmade jewellery for his mom’s indie business start-up but no, instead he spent four years of his life and thousands of dollars getting an education, just so he could sit here, at midnight, updating medical records.

He was just hitting save on the last document when a loud crash in the next room almost scared him to death. He leapt out of his seat, knocking his coffee cup and sending it flying across the room. The last few drops spilt out onto the floor but he ignored it, grabbing the first weapon like object he could find, which in this case was a ballpoint pen, and creeping cautiously through the door and over to the adjacent room. He could see through the glass that the lights were still off, he couldn’t see anybody in there but he could hear clattering as something moved.

“Shit. Shit shit shit.”

His heart was pounding out of his chest as he stood with his back to the wall, edging his hand towards the door handle. Was he seriously about to do this? Confronting a burglar and potentially fighting them off with a pen was surely above his pay grade. What kind of person broke into a hospital anyway? There could be a maniac in that room. Taking a deep breath, he shoved the door open and hit the light switch, holding the pen out in front of him with a shaky hand.

The room looked like a bomb had hit it. The window was open, letting the rain in and completely soaking the exam bed beneath it, and the blind was completely tangled and destroyed. A trolley had been knocked over leaving an array of medical equipment scattered across the floor, and sat in the middle of it all was a man. He was hunched over with his arms wrapped around himself, and he looked just as startled as Bucky.  

“Uh… I was gonna clean this up.” The man said slowly. He tried to push himself to his feet, but barely managed to get off the ground before letting out a pained grunt and slumping back down.

Bucky stared at him in complete shock, looking him up and down. He was wearing what looked like a dark blue onesie, with red boots and a blue helmet, but it wasn’t until the man looked up again that he finally spotted the huge “A” slapped across his forehead.

“Holy shit.” He breathed, dropping the pen and taking a step back.

“I’m really sorry. I swear I’m usually better at this.”

“You’re Captain America.”

 “Oh… uh yeah.” He said, pulling the helmet off and scratching his head awkwardly. “Hi.”

“Hi!?” Bucky exclaimed. “You just broke into a hospital! What the hell, dude!?”

Captain America nodded, trying to stand again but failing. “Yeah I uh… it’s kind of an emergency.” He said, moving his arms out of the way to reveal what looked like a knife handle sticking out of his abdomen. “Please tell me you’re a doctor.”

“I’m a nurse.” Bucky mumbled, making his way over to him. “And you’re _remarkably_ calm for a stab victim.”

“Two months ago I woke up in a new century, met a God, and fought a race of aliens from space. Takes a lot to shock me these days.”

He couldn’t argue with that, so instead he got to work, closing the window and grabbing a handful of paper towels to mop up the water on the bed.

“Okay,” He said as he crouched down, wrapping his arm around the wounded super soldier and helping him to his feet. “You lay down on here. I’m gonna go find some sterile equipment that _wasn’t_ just knocked all over the floor, and I’ll be right back.”

Bucky helped him up onto the bed, or at least he tried to, the guy weighed over 200lbs, before turning and heading back to the other room.

_Okay_ , he thought to himself as he rifled through drawers and cabinets looking for everything he needed. _Captain America just broke into your hospital. You’re about to pull a knife out of Captain America’s stomach. It’s no big deal, he’s just a regular guy. A regular guy who happened to save the entire planet. Probably one of the most important people in the country, and his life is in your hands. No big deal._

He couldn’t say for certain whether any of the equipment he’d gathered up would even work on this guy. Enhanced super humans were never really covered in his training. Would he even be able to stick a needle in him? Was he literally indestructible? Probably not considering the knife currently lodged in his abdomen, but still, there were a lot of unknowns here. Taking another deep breath, he gathered everything up and walked, as confidently as he could, back through the door.

“Okay,” Bucky said, setting everything down on the table next to the bed and snapping on a pair of gloves. “Is this suit technically government property? Because I’m gonna need to cut through it but I don’t wanna be arrested or something.”

“It’s fine.” He grunted. “Been trying to get them to replace this thing anyway.”

Shrugging, Bucky picked up the scissors and started carefully cutting the fabric away from the knife handle, frowning when he realised how thin the material was.

“Jeeze, I get why you wanna replace this thing. They really send you out there in pyjamas, huh?”

“It’s not their fault. After the war they kinda… overstated my powers. When they designed the suit they were making it for a guy who was already indestructible.”

Bucky nodded, remembering the history lessons at school about the hero who could run through a barrage of bullets and make it out without a scratch. That guy seemed a far cry from the man lying in front of him right now. Setting the scissors down, he tore the rest of the upper part of the suit away, trying to maintain his professional composure as he stared down at his rock hard, genetically engineered abs.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to the knife, tracing his finger around the edge of the wound and chewing on his lip thoughtfully.

“Okay, Cap, I don’t think-”

“Steve.”

“What?”

“Steve is fine.” Steve said, smirking up at him. “Feels like we’re kinda past formalities now.”

“Well, Steve, whoever or whatever stabbed you did a pretty good job of avoiding any major organs. So I should be able to pull it out without doing any more damage.” He told him. “Now would you say you bleed more, or less than the average man? Or do you just bleed like a regular person? Approximately how much blood should I be prepared for here? Do you even have blood?”

“I have blood.” Steve grunted, screwing his face up in pain. “And as far as I know, it’s the normal amount. I heal a lot faster though.”

“Okay, that’s something. Press down on this.” Bucky said, lining the wound with dressings and guiding Steve’s hands down to it.

Taking another deep breath, he gripped the knife handle firmly and whispered a silent prayer to God that he wasn’t about to kill Captain America.  

“Think happy thoughts, Captain.” He instructed, counting to three in his head and yanking the knife out.

“SHITTING HELL!” Steve yelled, looking down at him in shock. “You could have warned me!”

“You’ve fought aliens, don’t be a baby.” Bucky scolded, grabbing a towel and pressing it down on the wound. “You should think yourself lucky. If that knife was at an angle that would have hurt _way_ more. Whoever stabbed you was very considerate.”

“How fortunate for me.” Steve mumbled, dropping his head back down on the bed and letting out a deep breath. “Thank you. Probably would have fucked that up if I’d done it myself.”

Bucky nodded, and fell silent, focusing his energy on pressing the towel down.

“You know,” He said after a few minutes, “You’re nothing like what I expected.”

“Yeah? What were you expecting?” Steve asked, lifting his head back up to look at him.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I thought you’d swear a lot less for starters.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Steve chuckled. “You know I was in the army, right?”

“I know that.” Bucky muttered. “Still, you’re kinda different from the guy they make you out to be on TV.”

“Good different or bad different?” Steve smirked, his eyes burning into him.

“Good, I think.” He said quietly, chewing on his lip and looking away when Steve smiled at him.

Was he flirting with Captain America? Was Captain America flirting with _him_? Were those three cups of coffee distorting his perception of reality?

“Okay I have a question.” He said after a while, lifting the blood soaked towel away from the wound and grabbing some wipes to clean it up. “Why didn’t you just come to hospital… normally? You wouldn’t have had to wait long. You had a fucking knife in your body, they would have carted you straight to the emergency room.”

“Oh, I don’t have medical insurance yet.” Steve told him. “Or any money.”

Bucky stared up at him, confused. “You… But you’re Captain America. I mean did they not… You saved the entire planet. I kinda just assumed somebody would have like… paid you for that.”

“Who’s gonna pay me? The _government_? They spend all their money starting wars, they’re not gonna pay me for stopping one.”

Sniggering, Bucky chewed on his lip and shook his head.

“What?”

“Nothing it’s just… Captain America hates the government. Kinda ironic.”

“Yeah.” Steve said, nodding his head. “I think I have pretty good grounds to sue a few republicans for using me as their poster boy.”

“Oh I’d enjoy that.” Bucky grinned.

“In that case I’ll definitely do it.”

Okay, it _definitely_ felt like Steve was flirting with him now. There was no way he was flirting with him… But it definitely felt like he was. This is the guy who’s hung out with _Thor_. There’s no way he was flirting with him.

He realised he was staring at Steve’s face again and quickly looked away, remembering the open wound on Steve’s stomach that he was supposed to be attending to.

“Um…” He stammered, trying to focus. “This is gonna need stitches.”

 Steve nodded his consent and Bucky got to work, trying to keep his brain in work mode.

“Seriously though,” He said quietly as he stitched up the wound. “I think you could do a lot of good around here. Besides, you know, fighting aliens.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, I know things must be way better now than uh…”

“Than the 30’s?” Steve smirked. “Yeah, things have moved on a bit since then. Not perfect though.”

“That’s what I’m saying. We’ve been trying to change things for years but… well people might actually listen to _you_.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Steve nodded, looking up at him and sighing. “I don’t know what I’d start with.”

“Something important to you, I guess?” Bucky suggested, cutting the last stitch and patting his stomach gently. “You’re all done, Cap.”

He helped Steve to his feet, picking up the knife from the side and handing it to him.

“Might wanna take this with you. Not sure how I’d explain that to security otherwise.”

“Right. Thank you uh…” Steve trailed off, glancing down at Bucky’s nurse badge. “James?”

“Bucky.” He corrected. “We’re past formalities now, right?”

“Right.” Steve smirked, looking down at the ground. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“Anytime, Cap. Next time you wanna break into the hospital, I’m usually in the room next door.”

He waited until Steve had left, this time through the door, to sit back down. The only evidence that he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing was the small shred of Steve’s ripped uniform left on the exam bed.

One week later, Steve came out publicly as bisexual, sending the media into absolute chaos, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel slightly responsible.

Three and a half weeks later, Bucky saw him again.

It was a night shift this time. He’d just finished assisting with an emergency car crash victim, and was now slumped in his chair in the back room on his break. He was considering taking a ten minute power nap when he heard a tentative knock on the window. Frowning, he spun around on his chair and saw Steve’s face pressed against the glass, smiling and waving at him awkwardly.

“Bucky, hi.” He said breathlessly when Bucky opened the window. “How are you?”

“Uh… exhausted? It’s 2am and it’s been non-stop today.”

“Oh. I can leave if it’s a bad time or-”

“Steve, why are you here?” Bucky asked, slumping against the window frame and looking down at him standing in the darkness.

His left eye was bruised and swollen, his lip busted and bleeding, and his left arm was hanging limp at his side.

“Uh…” He said, glancing down at his arm. “I’m pretty sure my shoulder’s dislocated.”

“What? Get in here then, you idiot. I’ll go open the emergency exit down the hall.”

“It’s fine, I can climb in through here.”

“Steve I don’t think you should-”

“Here, take this.” Steve said, ignoring him and passing his shield up through the window.

“Whoa.” Bucky exclaimed as he took it, spinning it around in his hands and examining it. “I thought it would be heavier.”

Steve didn’t reply, grunting as he hoisted himself through the window with one hand. He made it halfway through before losing his balance, tumbling head first onto the floor with a heavy thud.

“Could’a just come through the door, idiot.” Bucky mumbled, setting the shield down by the wall and helping him back onto his feet. “Sit down over here and let me see.”

Steve complied silently, sitting in Bucky’s chair and wincing in pain.

“I like the new suit, by the way.” He said as he examined Steve’s shoulder, looking down at the dark blue suit. “Subtle.”

“Thanks.” Steve chuckled, wincing again when Bucky moved his arm slightly.

“Good news, it’s definitely dislocated.”

“How is that good news?”

“Because it’s easy to fix.” Bucky told him. “I just gotta move your arm around a bit. It’s gonna hurt like an absolute bitch though so if you want me to stop just-”

“I’ll be fine.”

Bucky cocked his eyebrow at him, unconvinced, but carried on anyway, taking Steve’s wrist in his hand and guiding his arm up the same way he’d done a thousand times before. Steve never told him to stop, but Bucky could tell that he wanted to, gritting his teeth and grunting loudly until his shoulder slipped back into place with a pop.

“There you go, tough guy.” Bucky smirked, patting his back and sitting back against the desk. “I’d tell you to rest it for a week, but given your line of work I feel like that’s not gonna happen.”

“Yeah, probably not.” Steve chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. You want me to clean your face up while you’re here?”

“Uh,” Steve stammered, touching his lip and looking down at the blood on his finger, “Yeah, thanks.”

Grabbing a couple of wipes, Bucky crouched in front of him and carefully cleaned the blood away from his lip. There couldn’t be that many people in the world who had been this close to Steve Rogers’ face, and _damn_ what a face it was. Even bruised, swollen, and covered in blood, he still looked like he was crafted by the gods, and swiping over his plump bottom lip, Bucky was struggling to keep his thoughts pure. It was like the word kissable was _invented_ just to describe Steve’s lips. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he glanced up to see if Steve had noticed him staring, but his eyes were firmly fixed on his metal left hand, which he’d forgotten to cover with a glove before getting started.

“Shit. Sorry.” He said, shoving his hand in his pocket and looking away from him. “I usually cover it up. Always freaks people out.”

“What? No, I wasn’t… I didn’t…” Steve stammered, looking up at him apologetically. “I didn’t mean to stare at it.”

“S’okay.” Bucky shrugged. “Not every day you see a guy with a bionic arm, right?”

“It’s your whole arm?”

Nodding, Bucky rolled his sleeve up to reveal more of the metal prosthetic. “Goes right up to my shoulder.”

Steve’s eyes widened like an awe struck child. Bucky was used to people being shocked, even scared of it, but Steve just looked fascinated, reaching towards him and gently taking his wrist to get a closer look.

“Is it Stark tech?” He asked, frowning when Bucky nodded. “Didn’t realise he made stuff like this.”

“He doesn’t. Stark Industries went through this phase of different projects. I happened to lose my arm around the same they were looking for beta testers for prosthetic prototypes.” Bucky told him, watching as Steve examined his hand. “They were planning to turn this into a whole company at one point, but then the whole Iron Man thing happened a few years later and I guess it became less of a priority after that.”

Steve traced his finger across Bucky’s palm, looking up in awe when Bucky flinched.

“You can feel it?”

“It’s wired into me.” Bucky said, nodding. “Makes it a lot easier to use but… also means I can never take it off.”

He watched Steve curiously as he traced over the grooves and lines on his wrist. Nobody had ever been this gentle with his arm before.

“I don’t wanna be intrusive,” Steve said after a while. “I was just wondering…”

“You wanna know how I lost it, right?”

Steve looked down at the floor, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even… You must be sick of it.”

“It’s fine.” Bucky chuckled, taking his hand back and hoisting himself up onto the desk. “Motorbike accident when I was 19. Doctor said I was lucky to be alive.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve said quietly, glancing up at his forehead. “Is that how you got the scar too?”

Bucky nodded, reaching up and running his finger along the scar that split his left eyebrow in half. “It’s a fun look though, right?”

Steve smirked up at him and Bucky sighed. “The arm isn’t my biggest problem, though. My head took most of the impact when I came off and now my memory’s completely fucked. I sort of just… forget to do things. If I don’t write everything down and set reminders on my phone I could forget to eat or go to work. I’ve kinda learned to live with it now, but then sometimes I’ll forget to make the reminders and everything goes to shit again.”

As if on cue, his phone vibrated loudly on the desk, flashing up with a reminder that his break was over.

“Shit.” He muttered. “I gotta get back.”

“Oh, right.” Steve said, getting to his feet and helping Bucky down from the desk. “Sorry, I kinda ruined your break.”

“You didn’t ruin it.” Bucky smirked, making his way across the room and opening the window for Steve to get back out. “You livened it up.”

Steve chuckled, climbing back through the window, a lot more elegantly this time.

“Oh, don’t forget this.” Bucky added, picking the shield up from where it was proper against the wall and passing it through to him. “Until next time, Cap.”

Over the next few months, Steve came back more and more often, and soon Bucky could guarantee he’d see him at least once a week. At first he thought maybe Steve was just incredibly accident prone, but over time the “injuries” he was coming with became less and less severe. Not that Bucky ever mentioned this, of course, because he didn’t want him to stop coming over. So instead he would let Steve in through the window, stick a band aid on that cut or pull out that splinter, and then they’d just sit and talk for half an hour. For a while that was fine, but gradually he realised that the general and totally rational attraction he’d felt in the beginning was developing into more of a full blown crush. Imagine that. A crush on Captain America. Not just a little infatuation. This was a full on, butterflies in the stomach, “holy shit please stay in my life forever” kind of crush. What made matters worse was that Steve kept flirting with him. At least, he seemed to be. Bucky still wasn’t certain whether Steve was actually flirting with him, or if it was just wishful thinking on his part. All in all, it was a situation he’d never expected to find himself in.

Things finally came to a head four and a half months after they first met. It was almost 11pm and Bucky was coming to the end of his shift, clearing away a few papers when he heard that familiar tapping on the window. His stomach did a flip and he cursed himself internally, quickly calming himself down and pulling the window open.

“Hey.” He said as smoothly as he could, grinning down at Steve and reaching out to help him in.

Steve clambered in through the window, smiling cheerfully at him.

“Hi.” He said as he plopped himself down in Bucky’s chair. “How’ve you been?”

“Uh, not too bad. It was my mom’s birthday on Saturday so we had a pretty big party, then I had to come in to work the next day hungover which was about as fun as you’d expect.”

Chuckling, Steve leant back in the chair and nodded. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

Bucky looked him up and down, trying to figure out what Steve needed from him this time. He looked completely fine to him. No cuts, no scrapes, not so much as a bruise. Frowning, he leant back against the desk and folded his arms.

“So uh… What are you doing here?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you come to the hospital?”

Steve blinked up at him for a moment, chewing on his lip and looking down at the floor.

“Uh… Yeah I uh…” He stammered, rolling up the sleeve of his uniform and holding his hand out towards him. “I think I might have sprained my wrist?”

Bucky cocked his eyebrow at him, looking down at Steve’s perfectly uninjured wrist.

“Right.” He mumbled as he took Steve’s hand, bending his wrist slowly and glancing back up at him with a questioning look.

Steve stared blankly at him for a few seconds before he realised Bucky was waiting for a reaction. “Uh… ouch?”

“Your wrist’s fine, Steve.” Bucky said flatly, smirking at him before turning around and getting back to collecting up the papers on the desk.

“You know,” He said as he sorted the stack of papers into folders, “if you wanted to see me, you could have just come to my apartment.”

He glanced tentatively over his shoulder, unsure of how Steve was going to react, but when he looked at him he was blushing and looking at his feet.

“I uh… I didn’t want to overstep.” He said quietly. “Plus I don’t actually know where you live.”

Bucky chewed on his lip, trying to figure out what his next move was supposed to be. Honestly, he hadn’t expected Steve to react quite so nonchalantly to what he’d said. He’d expected him to at least _try_ to deny that he was only here to see him. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Bring him to his apartment? And then what? What exactly did he expect to get out of this? A friendly bros night in? Or was he _seriously_ trying to hook up with Captain America?

Glancing up at the clock, he scratched his neck awkwardly and looked back down at him.

“Well… my shift just ended if you wanna… I don’t know… come back to my place for a while?”

_Christ did he really just say that?_

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

_What!?_

Bucky stared at him for a few seconds, dumbfounded. _Okay_ , he thought to himself, trying to stay calm, _I guess Steve is coming to your apartment now_.

“Right… okay.” He said out loud, taking a step towards the door. “I gotta sign out first so uh… I guess I’ll meet you outside?”

Despite his feelings, he was usually so calm and collected around Steve. In fact, that was part of what lead to him falling for him in the first place. Even though Steve was practically a celebrity, Bucky always felt relaxed with him, and he’d started looking forward to his visits so he could have a break and be himself with someone for a while. Right now though, that had all gone out the window. He felt like a blushing, nervous schoolkid as he walked down the corridor to the reception, his mind racing with thoughts of what was going to happen when they got home.

Steve was waiting in the parking lot when he got outside, leaning casually against a lamp post and smiling cheerfully when he saw him approaching. Trying to ignore his heart beating out of his chest, Bucky waved back, leading him over to his car.

“So,” Steve said as Bucky started the car, “Is your place far?”

“About 20 minutes. It’s in Brooklyn, actually. That’s your home town right?”

Steve nodded, a faint smile creeping across his face.

“Have you been back at all? I mean… since you came back?” He asked, a little nervous that he might be hitting a sore spot.

“Yeah.” He said quietly. “It was the first place I went after I woke up. It’s a little different to how I remember it.”

“Yeah I bet.” Bucky chuckled. “Man that must be crazy for you.”

He didn’t get a response to that, and they both stayed silent for the rest of the drive. A couple of times Bucky glanced over to check that he was okay, and saw him staring out the window, watching the buildings as they went by. It was a little hypnotic watching the shadows dancing across Steve’s face as they drove through the city lights, and Bucky had to remind himself several times that he was in control of a moving vehicle. The last thing he needed was to be responsible for getting Captain America into a car crash.

“Okay, here we are.” He said after a while, finally breaking the silence as they pulled up outside the apartment block.

They both got out of the car, and Bucky lead him through the door and up the stairs to his apartment, unlocking the door and letting him inside.

“So,” He said as he closed the door, turning around and gesturing vaguely at the room. “This is me, I guess.”

“Who’s this?” Steve asked excitedly, crouching down as Star came over to them.

“Oh, that’s Star.” Bucky smirked. “He’s an asshole.”

“He’s adorable.”

He scratched Star’s ears and stood back upright and turned to face him, and for a long time they just stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to do next. Steve looked a little distant and Bucky nudged his shoulder, smiling up at him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah I just…” Steve trailed off, looking down at his feet. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

Bucky paused as the nervousness that he’d managed to block out came creeping back to the forefront. “Uh… sure?”

“Does it bother you? I mean… that I’m from a completely different generation.”

Frowning, Bucky took a step towards him and cocked his head curiously. “Why would that bother me?”

“I don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “I’m like… 90 years old.”

“Steve, you’re the same age as me.”

“Biologically yeah but I mean… is it not weird for you?”

“Honestly, I’ve never really thought about it before now.” Bucky assured him. “Why? Is it weird for you?”

“No! No not at all it’s uh… the opposite actually.” Steve admitted, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I feel more normal with you than with most other people I’ve met and I just… I don’t know. I really like you and I like being with you but most people act like I’m some kind of grandpa so I don’t want you to think that-”

“Steve.” Bucky interrupted, taking another step towards him. “I like you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And nothing about who I am bothers you?” Steve asked nervously.

“I mean, it bothers me that you get shot, stabbed, and impaled way more often than the average person should.” He teased. “But other than that, I’m cool.”

Steve smiled at him, and Bucky could see a faint blush creeping on to his cheeks. Feeling a little more courageous now, he reached up and draped his arms over Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer until their chests were pressed together.

He’d been pretty up close to Steve plenty of times, but mainly to clean up cuts and grazes. This time was different. This time he didn’t have to steal glances when he thought Steve wasn’t looking. This time he could just look at him. He tried his best to take everything in. The flecks of green catching the light in his blue eyes, the freckles dotted across the bridge of his nose. He avoided looking down at his lips. He was almost certain that if he looked at them this time, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from kissing them. Even now, he still wasn’t completely sure if that was what Steve actually wanted.

He got an answer to his question not too long after, when Steve broke the silence with a quiet and tentative whisper.

“Bucky?”

“Mm?”

“I uh… can I kiss you?”

Bucky giggled and he frowned, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing it’s just… you do sound like a grandpa now.”

Steve chewed on his lip, biting back a laugh. “That’s not funny.” He mumbled, still smiling despite himself.

“Are you going to court me, Captain Rogers?”

“Stop it, you dick.” Steve chuckled, swatting his arm playfully. “Answer the question.”

“Yes, you may kiss me.” He grinned. “If I haven’t completely ruined the moment already.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was the cutest giggle Bucky had ever heard in his life. That made Bucky crack up too and they ended up stood there laughing like a pair of idiots with their arms wrapped around each other.

“You definitely ruined it.” Steve said after a couple of minutes, grinning at him.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Bucky sniggered. “This has gotta be your most awkward romantic encounter ever, right?”

“Honestly, this doesn’t even make the top five.”

“Oh wow.”

They both felt silent again, staring at each other with stupid grins on their faces. Bucky could see the cogs turning in Steve’s head again and could tell he was getting ready to say something else. But now his patience had completely run out, and before Steve could get another word in he leant up, having to stand on his tip toes to finally close the gap between them.

Steve let out a small surprised noise when Bucky pressed their lips together, snaking his arms around his waist and pulling him closer. For the first time in a long while, Bucky’s brain switched off. The noise and the overthinking went away and he could focus just on Steve. He could taste the coffee on his tongue, feel his heart beating fast against his chest. Reaching up, he tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair, tugging lightly. Steve moaned at that, biting down on Bucky’s lip and sending a shiver down his spine. He tugged again, a little harder this time, and he could swear Steve growled, grabbing hold of his hips and pushing him backwards until his back slammed up against the door.

Bucky yelped in shock and Steve immediately pulled away, breathing heavily.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, looking down at him with concerned eyes.

“What? No, I’m fine.” Bucky smirked. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah… sorry about that.” Steve said quietly, blushing hotly.

“That’s okay.” He chuckled. “I mean it’s been what? Seventy years since you got any action? Can’t exactly blame you for being a little pent up.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not even gonna deny that, huh?” He grinned, yelping when Steve jabbed his side. “Hey!”

“I’m gonna wipe that smile off your face, I swear to god.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Bucky challenged.

Steve narrowed his eyes at him, giving him no warning before grabbing his thighs and lifting him up like he weighed nothing. He pressed Bucky harder against the door and Bucky grabbed hold of his arms instinctively, his eyes widening when he felt the bulging muscles there.

“Damn.” He breathed, tracing a finger over one of Steve’s biceps. His whole body heated up when Steve dug his fingers into his thighs and he whimpered, blushing when Steve smirked.

“Not such a smartass now, huh?” Steve whispered, leaning down and kissing at his neck. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Steve, I swear to God.” Bucky gasped, too overwhelmed to think straight. He gripped tightly on to Steve’s shoulders, wrapping his legs around his waist and tipping his head back to give him better access to his neck.

“That’s not an answer.” Steve said in a muffled voice, pulling away from his neck and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, looking at him expectantly.

“Right, sorry.” Bucky breathed. “It’s uh… the furthest door on the right… by the TV.”

Steve smiled at him, carrying him effortlessly across the room to the bedroom and sitting down on the edge of the bed. He held Bucky in his lap, running his hands under his shirt and looking up at him, silently asking permission. Bucky nodded and Steve pulled the shirt over his head. He could feel Steve’s eyes burning into him and he suddenly felt a little self-conscious, tilting his body away to try and draw attention away from his scarred shoulder. Frowning, Steve pulled him closer, kissing his shoulder gently.

“Buck,” He said quietly, kissing along the line where his skin met the metal prosthetic. “I’m a soldier. This isn’t the worst injury I’ve seen.”

Bucky watched him, struggling to process that Steve didn’t think the mangled, raised flesh along his shoulder didn’t disgust him. Up until now, all the guys he’d been with could be split into two distinct categories: the ones who looked at his shoulder in complete horror and not-so-subtly convinced him to put his shirt back on, and the ones who assured him it was fine but clearly avoided touching or looking at it. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever made him feel this loved, and he couldn’t get enough of it. Grabbing Steve’s shoulders, he pushed him backwards on the bed, straddling his waist and leaning down to kiss him. Steve smiled against his lips, wrapping his arms around his waist and Bucky sighed happily. He didn’t want this to stop. He felt warm, and safe, and he didn’t want that feeling to go away. Before he could enjoy himself too much, the niggling doubts started creeping back into his mind and quickly he sat upright, tearing himself away from Steve and panting as he looked down at him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, propping himself up on his elbows and squeezing his hips comfortingly. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No it’s just… I don’t… I didn’t bring you here because I wanted to sleep with you.” Bucky said slowly, trying to organise his thoughts.

“We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to.” Bucky said firmly. “I definitely want to it’s just… I really like you, and I don’t want this to just be a one night thing. It’s fine if that’s what you want but I just need to know now because I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and you just be gone, you know?”

Smiling, Steve reached up and stroked his cheek gently. “I’m not going anywhere.” He assured him. “I really like you too.”

“Okay, good.” Bucky said, nodding to himself. He readjusted himself on top of Steve and looked down at him, trailing his eyes over the endless buckles and clips on his suit.

“Stevie?” He asked quietly as he traced his finger over one of the buckles at his shoulder.

“Mm?”

“How the hell do I get this thing off!?”

The sun was shining in through a crack in the curtains when he woke up. Yawning, he stretched his legs out on the bed and soaked up the warmth. He looked down and saw an arm draped around his stomach, and as he moved he felt soft lips against the back of his neck, trailing lazy kisses along his skin.

“Nng?” He slurred sleepily, rolling over and letting out a contented sigh when he saw Steve smiling at him.

“Morning.” Steve said softly. “You sleep okay?”

Bucky nodded and snuggled closer to him, closing his eyes again as Steve ran his fingers through his hair.

“Mm.” He hummed after a few minutes. “Can we stay here forever?”

“I don’t know, do you have any plans today?”

Shrugging, Bucky sat up and reached for the notepad on his bedside table.

“Shit.” He muttered, staring down at the blank page. “Shit!”

“What’s wrong?”

Bucky didn’t respond. His brain was already going into panic mode, he could see Steve talking to him but could barely make out what he was saying. It had been almost two years since he’d forgotten to make his morning list and now he didn’t even know where to start with his day. Was he supposed to be at work today? Was he supposed to be at work _right now?_

He felt Steve’s hand on his arm and cringed away from him, hiding his face in his hands. Everything had been going so perfectly. Why did he have to fuck it up? Now Steve was gonna realise what a mess he was. He probably regretted ever coming home with him.

“Bucky, hey.”

Steve’s words finally broke through the noise in his head and he looked up, wiping away the tears that had started gathering in his eyes.

“Hey.” Steve said, smiling when he looked up and stroking his cheek gently. “You with me?”

Nodding, Bucky looked down at his hands. “M’sorry.” He mumbled, chewing on his lip. “If you wanna go then-”

“Buck, I’m not going anywhere.” Steve told him, tilting his head back up. “Tell me how I can help.”

“I… I don’t know if I have work.”

“Okay. Do you have your shifts written down somewhere?”

Pausing, Bucky thought for a moment and nodded. “On my phone.”

He scrambled across the bed, reaching down to the floor and pulling his phone out of the pocket of his pants. It took a while for him to unlock it with his hands shaking. He felt Steve crawl up behind him, stroking his shoulder gently and helping him to calm down. Eventually he managed to get into his phone, pulling up his work timetable and flopping backwards against Steve’s chest with relief.

“I don’t have work today.” He breathed. “It’s all fine.”

Steve kissed the top of his head, scooping him up in his arms and shuffling backwards on the bed. They both sat there for a while as Bucky’s heart rate gradually returned to normal, cuddling up to each other.  

“There’s probably so much I’ve forgotten to do.” He said quietly, nestling his head against Steve’s shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out his stomach cut him off, rumbling loudly and making them both laugh.

“Okay,” Steve chuckled, “I guess our first priority is breakfast.”

Bucky giggled and Steve leant down to kiss him, wrapping his arms around him and smiling up at him. “What are you thinking?”

“Mm, there’s this really great waffle place down the street.” Bucky told him, grinning. “I might have some sweatpants that fit you if you wanna go out.”

Steve’s face fell and he chewed on his lip. “I uh… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t like waffles? They do other stuff.”

“No, Buck, it’s not that. I just… I don’t know if we should… go out at all.”

“Oh.” Bucky said quietly, pulling away from him.

He was such an idiot. He really thought Steve wanted to date him. That _Captain America_ wanted to date him. Slumping his shoulders, he looked down at his hands and sighed.

“I’m sorry, I thought that you… I thought we were gonna…”

He trailed off when he felt Steve’s hand on his cheek, tilting his head back up to look at him.

“Buck, I wanna be with you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah… I’ve explicitly, verbally told you this at least three times now.” Steve smirked, pulling him closer and kissing his forehead. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s gonna be hard, you know? I wanna be normal with you. I wanna buy you breakfast and go for a walk in the park or something. I want that so bad but I just… I’m not a normal person. Everyone knows who I am. If I take you out somewhere and I get recognised, everyone’s gonna know who you are too.”

“You say that like it would be such a bad thing for people to know we were dating.” Bucky mumbled. “Everyone already knows you’re bi. It’s not like it would be a huge scandal.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Steve said, shaking his head. “If people know about you, you could be in danger. Someone might try to hurt you just to get to me. I know it sounds crazy but… I have a pretty crazy life know. I had to fight _aliens_ a few months ago. I just… it would kill me if anything happened to you because of me.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, chewing on his lip thoughtfully while Steve continued.

“I wish it could just be like comic books. I get a secret identity and can live a whole life without anyone tying the people I cared about to Cap. But I don’t have that. I know it’s a lot to ask but I really do want to make this work. It just has to be a secret.”

“Okay.” Bucky nodded. “This can be your secret identity. Nobody will know this part of you.”

Steve smiled dopily up at him and Bucky leant down to kiss him.

“You know,” He said between kisses, “I’m pretty sure that waffle house delivers anyway.”

Almost a year went by, and Bucky found that he was able to adjust to his new life as the secret boyfriend of a superhero fairly easily. Supervillains, evil plots, and the near collapse of society became dinner time talk for him. Steve had bought himself an apartment in Washington, but really he’d all but moved in to Bucky’s apartment. The only time Bucky didn’t see him was when he was off fighting crime and saving the world. You know, just normal boyfriend stuff. The only problem was, Bucky still felt himself being distant. He’d never made it this far into a relationship without spontaneously breaking it off, but he’d also never been in a relationship with someone he liked this much. He could tell Steve was starting to notice something was off, but it was a while before he finally got it out of him.

The criminals of America must have been taking their two weeks of allotted vacation time, because Steve had been at his apartment for 12 consecutive days. A new record. They were sat together on the sofa with the Half Blood Prince playing on TV. Bucky had finally managed to get Steve to watch all the movies, although he wasn’t entirely convinced he’d been paying that much attention to the plot so far. He didn’t even react when Sirius died, the monster.

But that wasn’t what he was concerned with right now. He had a much more important issue to deal with. Taking a deep breath, he nudged Steve’s shoulder and looked up at him.

“My mom wants to meet you.” He told him. “She’s been nagging for weeks now.”

He waited for the outright rejection, but it never came. Instead Steve just looked at him, confused.

“I’ve met your mom.” He said, frowning at him. “Like, a million times.”

“Skype doesn’t count as meeting someone, Steve.” He smirked. “I mean she wants to meet you in person. For dinner or something.”

“Buck, I can’t just up and go to Indiana.”

“She can come here, idiot.”

“Oh, right.” Steve nodded, chuckling to himself. “Why does she want to meet me?”

“Because we’ve been dating for a year?” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow at him and leaning back on the couch. “I don’t know. She always has to meet guys I’m dating. I don’t think she completely trusts my judgement.”

“Sounds a little paranoid.”

“Not really. After everything with dad it’s kind of understandable.”

“Oh.” Steve said quietly, looking chewing on his lip for a moment as if trying to decide what to say. “I mean… you never really talk about him, so I don’t really-”

“I know.” Bucky interrupted bluntly.

“I mean is it just the typical dickhead dad story or-”

“He wasn’t a dick!” He blurted out, immediately pursing his lips again and shuffling away from Steve.

Steve didn’t say anything, looking at him with concern in his eyes. Cautiously, he reached out and squeezed Bucky’s hand gently.

“He wasn’t a dick.” He repeated, quieter this time, looking down at Steve’s hand and sighing. “I mean, I guess he was a dick, just not to me. He was my best friend. He was always there for me and… I don’t know, we just did everything together, you know? I came out to him when I was 13, before I told anyone else because he was the person I trusted the most.”

“And he took it badly?”

Bucky shook his head. “He said he was glad I told him, and that he was proud of me no matter what.”

“Okay…” Steve said quietly, furrowing his brow in confusion. “So what happened?”

“He left. Two days after I told him. I woke up and found my mom crying in her room, and she told me he’d just left. Taken all his stuff, no note, just gone. And then we just… never heard from him again.”

“Buck,” He whispered as he leant over, wrapping his arms around him and lifting him onto his lap. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry.”

“I thought it was because of me. Because of what I said to him.” He said, his voice cracking as he spoke. “Mom was completely heartbroken and I thought it was my fault.”

He felt tears stinging his eyes and buried his face in Steve’s shoulder, trying to hide from him.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was his fault.” Steve said softly, kissing his head and squeezing him tightly.

“I know.” Bucky sniffled. “When I was older mom told me everything. Turned out he’d been cheating on her for years. She found out and confronted him about it. She didn’t wanna break things off for my sake so she just told him she wanted to talk it out, but he was too much of a coward to deal with his fuck up. Ran out as soon as she’d gone to bed.”

He looked up at him and forced a smile. “It was just a crazy coincidence that it all happened just after I’d told him.”

“Why wouldn’t your mom tell you that sooner? Save you from beating yourself up about it.”

“She didn’t know. I didn’t come out to her until I was 17. She still has no idea I ever even told dad.” Bucky admitted, chewing on his lip nervously. “You’re the only person I’ve told about that, actually.”

“Oh.” Steve said quietly, looking a little taken aback. “Bucky I-”

“Anyway that whole thing kinda gave me trust issues.” Bucky said, cutting him off. “I always end up pushing people away because I get scared that they’re just gonna abandon me again. I’ve been doing it with you too, a lot.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Steve smirked. “You literally just did it then.”

“M’sorry.” He sighed. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, but it’s easier to lose you now than get more attached and then lose you later.”

“Hey.” Steve said, taking Bucky’s shoulders and sitting him upright. “I love you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Bucky, listen to me. I love you, so much. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, and I’m not gonna leave you, okay? It would kill me to ever lose you.”

“I love you too.” Bucky choked. “So much.”

Steve cupped his face in his hands, pulling him down to kiss him.

“Does this mean you’ll meet my mom?” He asked as he pulled away from him, wiping the tears away from his eyes.

“Definitely.”

“Can we finish watching Harry Potter now?”

Laughing, Steve nodded, and they snuggled back up on the couch together.

Steve was a complete fucking liar.

Everything was perfect, more than perfect in fact, until Sokovia. He knew Steve was out on a mission, something about Hydra and a sceptre. He got a text from him in the afternoon telling him that everything had gone fine and that he’d be home in a couple of days, and he thought nothing else of it. A couple of days passed, and the hulk went on a rampage in South Africa. No sign of Steve. Bucky tried desperately to call him but got nothing. All he had to go on were the constant news alerts. Something about an evil robot and possibly the end of the world.

It was four more days before he finally heard the key turning in the lock, and saw Steve, exhausted and dishevelled, staggering through the front door. Before he could even get a word out, Bucky was throwing himself at him, flinging his arms around his neck and sobbing on his shoulder.

“Stevie… you’re here… I thought… on the news… they were saying… and you didn’t answer your phone for days…” He said between choked breaths. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m here.” Steve said softly, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his hair. “I’m sorry.”

They both stood against the door for almost half an hour, holding each other and crying. Eventually Bucky’s head cleared, and he pulled away from him, reaching up and brushing the damp, dirty hair out of Steve’s face.

“Did you do it, though?” He asked, stroking Steve’s cheek. “Save the world I mean.”

“Yeah. For now.”

“Good.” He said, smiling affectionately up at him. “I knew you would.”

Steve smiled back at him but his eyes were distant. He barely even seemed to register Bucky’s hands on him as he stroked his hair, massaged his shoulders, did everything he could to try and relax him a little.

“Stevie?” He asked after a while. “You with me, baby?”

Blinking suddenly, Steve shook his head and looked down at him with a confused look on his face.

“Yeah.” He said, nodding slowly. “Sorry, Buck. I’m just… I don’t know.”

He still had tears in his eyes, and Bucky reached up to swipe them away before they could roll down his cheeks. He was usually a little shaken up when he got back from big missions, but Bucky had never seen him like this before. His hands were shaking, his face was pale, his eyes were red and swollen, and Bucky realised he must have been crying long before he got to his apartment.

“Did something happen?” He asked, squeezing his shoulders gently.

Steve stared at him for a long time, and Bucky grew more worried, cupping his face in his hands. “Talk to me, Stevie.”

“Yeah… no I’m okay.” Steve finally said. “I just… a lot of people died… and I haven’t slept in three days. That’s all.”

Bucky knew Steve was lying, he’d always been awful at it, but he looked so physically and emotionally drained that he couldn’t bring himself to push him for an honest answer. Instead he just smiled, stroking his hair lovingly and stretching up and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Okay. Well you can get some sleep soon, but first I’m gonna run you a bath.”

“Do I smell that bad?”

“So fucking bad.”

Steve smiled, a genuine smile this time, chuckling softly and nodding his head. “Okay.” He grinned. “Bath first.”

He slept for almost 24 hours after that. Bucky called in sick at work so he could stay with him, sitting up in bed with Steve’s head in his lap, stroking his hair while he snored peacefully. When he finally woke up, he ate his way through almost the entire contents of Bucky’s kitchen, before getting back into bed and sitting quietly with him.

“You feeling any better?” Bucky asked after a few minutes of silence, running his fingers through Steve’s hair.

Steve just nodded and Bucky frowned, tilting his head to look at him.

“Will you please talk to me? Usually you can’t wait to vent about everything that happens on your missions.”

Sighing, Steve leant back against the bedframe and shrugged. “I don’t know what there is to tell you. Tony made an evil robot, then made another robot to fight that robot, we made friends with a witch-”

“Hold on,” Bucky interrupted, “I only know about one robot.”

“Yeah, apparently we have a purple robot on our team now. He has a cape.”

“Right, okay, and the witch?”

“Wanda.” Steve said quietly, chewing on his lip. “She volunteered for genetic experiments with Hydra and they gave her powers. She can… you know… do mind stuff… move things around and-”

“Telekinesis, babe.”

“Right, yeah.” He nodded. “She hypnotised us all and played on our deepest fears.”

“Oh…” Bucky said, as everything started to fit into place. “And she made the hulk-”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you’ve been acting so off?

“Probably.” Steve mumbled. “She completely broke us down.”

He knew he shouldn’t ask. The fact that Steve hadn’t brought it up himself told him that he shouldn’t ask. But the question was burning and he couldn’t stop himself.

“What did she make you see?”

The way Steve looked at him was haunting, like he’d just seen a ghost. He stared at him silently for so long that Bucky almost changed the subject, but Steve finally spoke before he could get a word in, although it wasn’t the response he’d hoped for.  

“It was just… war stuff I guess.” He mumbled quietly, looking away from him again.

It wasn’t even close to the truth, Bucky could tell, but he left it alone.

“But… you made friends with her?” He asked, moving the subject on.

Steve nodded, perking up a little and looking back over at him. “She’s just a kid, Buck. Hydra and Ultron manipulated her and as soon as she realised what they were doing she switched sides. I kinda… volunteered to train her up now.”

“You keep recruiting people like this and you’re gonna end up with a whole superhero team of your own.” He smirked, nudging Steve’s shoulder teasingly.

Steve laughed but it was an empty laugh, and Bucky could tell his mind was still elsewhere. They spent the rest of the day in bed, watching TV on Bucky’s laptop and talking about more mundane things, keeping the conversation away from superheroes and the apocalypse. Something about Steve was still off. It was like he was thinking about something else the whole time Bucky talked to him. It took Bucky a long time to get to sleep that night, partly because of all the questions he had running through his mind, and partly because of how restless Steve was next to him. He’d thought that maybe Steve would be more willing to talk in the morning, but when he woke up, Steve was gone.

He was aware of how empty the bed was as soon as he opened his eyes, but he didn’t think much of it. Assuming Steve was just in the bathroom, he snuggled up in the duvet and waited for him to get back. A few minutes passed, and the only sound he could hear was Star batting a toy around at the end of the bed. Frowning, he dragged himself out of bed and heading out into the front room.

“Stevie?” He called out, walking over to the bathroom door and nudging it gently.

The door swung open and he stared into the empty room, no sign of Steve anywhere. He spun back around, starting to panic, and realised Steve’s boots were gone from their spot by the front door.

“Okay,” He told himself as he headed back to the bedroom, “He’s just gone out.”

He went to pick up his notebook from the table, planning on carrying on with his morning, when he spotted the torn out page, folded neatly and left on top of his list.

Relief washed over him when he opened it and saw Steve’s handwriting. _He probably had an emergency call and had to leave_. _Maybe the witch girl needed him_.

He should never have let himself get his hopes up. He should have read the note first.

_Bucky,_

_I can’t do this anymore. Living a double life. It’s not fair on either of us, especially you. I know we said we could make this work but I think we both know we were kidding ourselves. I’m so sorry Buck, I should never have let things go this far. I hope you can forgive me and live a normal, happy life. You deserve a normal life and I’ll never be able to give you that._

_I hope maybe one day we’ll see each other again._

_Steve._

He read the words over and over again _,_ unable to process what he was reading. His hands were shaking as he carefully set the note back down on the table, sitting back on the bed and staring at the wall. He didn’t even know what to think, it was like his whole body had just shut down. Maybe this was what being dead felt like. Just an empty nothingness. He couldn’t even cry, all he could do was sit there, staring at the wall, hoping that maybe in a few minutes he’d wake up and Steve would be there next to him in bed and it would all be fine.

A few minutes passed, and he didn’t wake up. His phone buzzed on the table and he grabbed it frantically, hoping desperately for it to be Steve.

_Reminder: Dentist appointment @ 11:30_

He almost threw his phone at the wall, but then he had a thought. He could call Steve. Maybe if he just talked to him they could figure things out, he could explain to him that he didn’t _want_ a normal life. Unlocking his phone he scrolled frantically through his contacts to find Steve’s name, but it wasn’t there. Baffled, he scrolled through again, and again, reading every name individually. Steve really had thought of everything. He’d already deleted his number from Bucky’s phone. Now the tears came, and they didn’t stop. Not for days. Steve was gone. Completely gone. He was never going to see him again, or hear his voice.

At least that was what he thought it would be like. Instead it was much worse. He saw him almost every day. On the TV, in magazines, plastered across billboards. Constantly reminding him of everything that happened, never giving him a chance to move on, or put it behind him.

And now? Now he was on the other side of his bedroom door, asleep on his fucking couch. He’d never been able to move on from what happened, but at least he’d been able to ignore it, push it to the back of his mind, and get some small, momentary relief by crapping on Captain America to his friends. But now Steve was right here, and he was right back at square one again, sobbing like a baby into his pillow and wishing for the hundredth time that he’d just called security when he first heard someone breaking in to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that I uploaded a sad chapter on the first day of pride month is pure homophobia but I'm not gonna apologise.


	3. The Spider

Whenever Bucky had fantasised about seeing Steve again, he’d always imagined having his life completely together. He imagined the look on Steve’s face when he realised how great Bucky’s life was going, what a well-rounded and fully functional person he’d grown to be. So many times he’d daydreamed about crossing paths with him on a busy street, skin glowing, hair soft and shining in the sun.

“Oh. Hi, Steve.” He’d say, nonchalantly, addressing him as if they’d never been anything more than casual acquaintances. “I was just on my way to the farmers market to pick up some fresh fruits with the extra money I now have thanks to the promotion I just got. I think I’ll use the fruit in a pie. Yes, I’m the type of guy who bakes pies now. In fact, my life is a completely stress free haven.”

Steve would smile, but Bucky would know inside he was _seething_ at how well his life was going now. They would part ways, and Bucky would never think anything of the event again.

The reality was far from what he’d hoped.

He woke up from a short and restless sleep and stared at his own reflection in the wall mirror next to his bed. He looked like an absolute fucking mess. Hair clinging to his sweaty forehead and eyes red and puffy from crying the night before. He’d raided the supply of chocolate he kept under his bed last night, and there was now melted chocolate stuck to the front of his shirt, _Steve’s_ shirt.

“Fuck me.” He grumbled, sitting upright and rubbing his sore eyes.

He reached across to his bedside table to check his morning list, and felt a sudden sick feeling in his stomach when he realised he’d forgotten to write anything down last night. His already low mood plummeted to rock bottom. He was too emotionally drained to even panic, instead he just started crying again. Slumping back against the headboard in defeat and sobbing into his hands.

It must have been at least twenty minutes he was sat there before he heard a gentle knock on the door.

“Bucky?” Steve called from behind the door. “Are you okay?”

“Fuck off.” Bucky spat, hurling a pillow at the door and missing terribly.

There was a long pause and Bucky thought maybe he’d gone away, but then he spoke again, his voice softer.

“It’s your list, isn’t it? You forgot to write it.”

Bucky sniffled, wiping away some of the tears with the back of his hand.

“Leave me alone.” He said quietly, curling up tightly on the bed and hugging his legs. “This is your fucking fault.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Steve apologised. “Please let me help.”

“You can’t help me.” Bucky muttered.

“You don’t have work today. You told me last night that you have the day off. You also…” Steve trailed off and Bucky could hear him sighing outside. “Look, can I come in? It’s really hard to talk to you through the wall.”

Bucky sat silently for a while. He felt a little more relaxed knowing work wasn’t an issue, but he still felt like complete shit. His hands wouldn’t stop trembling and despite all his efforts he still couldn’t stop the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Fine.” He said quietly after a while, sitting upright and making another desperate attempt to wipe his face.

Steve pushed the door open slowly, standing in the doorway for a moment and looking him up and down.

“Hey.” He said softly as he perched himself on the very edge of the bed, leaving a safe amount of distance between them.

“I filled Star’s bowls already.” He told him, looking down at his hands. “You still keep your meds by the cereal right?”

“Yeah.” Bucky mumbled.

“Okay. Well I’m gonna sort breakfast out. Is that waffle place you like still going? I can order from there if you want. The apple cinnamon ones are still your favourite, right?”

Bucky didn’t say anything, chewing on his lip and doing his best to avoid looking over at Steve. He hated it. He hated how well Steve still knew him. It was a year since they’d seen each other, since Steve had been anywhere near his apartment, but it felt like he’d never been away. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Steve shuffling closer to him, setting his hand down on the duvet a couple of inches away from Bucky’s.

“Hey.” He said softly. “You still with me?”

“Stop it.” Bucky said quietly, avoiding his eyes.

“You… we don’t have to get waffles. I can cook something or-”

“Stop being nice to me.”

He looked up at him, wiping his eyes again and folding his arms defensively.

“We’re not friends,” He continued. “I don’t want you here, and you don’t want to be here, so will you just… stop? You’re not here as a fucking guest you’re just… you’re like a spider that’s come in through the window and I can’t throw it back out because it’ll probably die so I just let it stay, so long as it never comes anywhere near me.”

Steve nodded, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I get it.” He said holding his hands up in acceptance. “I completely get that. But… wouldn’t you find the spider a little more tolerable if it also bought you waffles?”

Bucky tried so hard to fight away the smile threatening to creep onto his face, but it was impossible. He turned away from him to try and hide his smile, but they both knew he’d cracked, and that only made him smile even more. His smile turned into a grin, which turned into a snigger, and soon he was a giggling mess on the bed, hiding his face in his hands to try and mask the laughter.

“So is that a yes to waffles?” Steve asked after a while, smirking at him.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded. “The apple cinnamon ones.”

“I know.”

“With extra whipped cream.”

“I know, Buck.” Steve chuckled, getting to his feet. “I got it.”

“If you mess up my waffles I’ll call the cops on you.”

Steve laughed and Bucky narrowed his eyes, folding his arms stubbornly.

“I’m serious.” He said flatly.

“No you’re not. You hate talking to cops.”  

“They always make me feel like I’m breaking the law!” He said defensively, throwing his hands up. “I ran a red light _once_ when I was 18 and now every time I see a cop I panic that my past might finally catch up with me.”

Steve chuckled again and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand.” He muttered. “You’ve committed so many crimes I bet you don’t even give it a second thought anymore.”

“Yeah. I mean, I literally broke into this apartment building last night.”

“While on the run from the law.”

“After telling the whole United Nations to fuck themselves.”

“And destroying an airport.”

Steve shrugged like there was nothing out of the ordinary about anything they’d just said, and Bucky shook his head in despair.

“Go order my fucking waffles, criminal.” He ordered, grabbing another pillow and hurling it at Steve’s head, this time hitting his target. “I want a latte too.”

“Yes, my lord.” Steve said, bowing his head and yelling when Bucky threw another pillow at him. “Alright! I’m going, jeeze.”

Bucky waited until Steve was out of the room before getting out of bed, pulling the closet doors open and staring blankly at the rack of clothes in front of him. He grabbed an old, comfy blue sweater and some black jeans. Once he was dressed he stood in front of the mirror and attempted to tackle his hair, but after five minutes of detangling with barely any noticeable results, he gave up. Accepting that he was just going to look like a wreck today, he pulled it back and headed out through the door, pausing when he saw Steve hanging up his phone.

“Are you using a burner phone?” He asked, looking down at the flip phone Steve was holding. “To order _breakfast?_ ”

“Yes?”

“Are you capable of doing anything normally?”

“Sure,” Steve said flatly, staring up at him like he was the biggest idiot on the face of the earth. “Let me just use my government issued work phone and send an alert straight to every single person trying to track me down. Then in about three years when you’re released from jail following your conviction for harbouring a fugitive, you can explain to your friends that you were caught because you told me not to use a burner phone, because you thought it was kinda weird.”

“Touché.”

“The waffles are gonna be about thirty minutes.”

“Okay, well I’m gonna take a shower.” Bucky told him. “Then I’m gonna eat waffles, and then I’m gonna go and get you some new clothes. And while I’m gone you’re gonna deep clean your entire fucking body because you’re stinking out my whole apartment. When was the last time you showered?”

“A good week ago.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’ve had a lot going on!” Steve exclaimed defensively. “I’ll shower while you’re out.”

“Better clean my fucking shower afterwards too, you pig.” Bucky muttered, turning on his heel and walking to the bathroom.

The waffles arrived just as he’d finished in the shower, and when he went downstairs he discovered that Steve had ordered enough food for a small army.

“I have guests.” He mumbled as he took the stack of boxes out of the bemused delivery girl’s hands. “So many guests.”

He handed over the money Steve had given him, trusting that it was enough, and staggered back up the stairs. They ate mostly in silence, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Despite his best efforts, Bucky could feel them slipping back into normality. Even though Steve smelled like a drain, and was tearing his way through at least thirty pancakes, none of it felt out of the ordinary. None of it felt any weirder than it did when Steve came home from long missions before, and Bucky had to remind himself several times that this wasn’t like before. He found himself fighting the urge to snuggle up closer to him, to rub his shoulders the way he knew Steve liked or whisper to him and remind him how much he loved him. Not because he wanted to do those things, obviously, just because that was what he always used to do. He definitely didn’t want to do any of those things. Absolutely not.

Once he’d finished his waffles he texted Claire, all but begging her to come out shopping with him. Fortunately, her shift didn’t start until the evening, so she agreed to meet him at the mall. He said a quick goodbye to Steve, a long goodbye to Star, and then headed out.

As he got in the car he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the rear view mirror, quickly licking away a smear of apple sauce on his top lip. He regretted not getting Steve to order him more food. How did they make waffles taste so good? Was it sorcery? Most likely. He’d avoided bringing it up to Steve at the time, but he hadn’t ordered anything from that waffle house since they split up. They’d ordered breakfast from there so often that it had become their thing, and afterwards Bucky couldn’t so much as walk past there without thinking about him. And now? Now Steve was back and they’d immediately eaten from there again, which only reaffirmed it as something he’d always associate with Steve. The bastard.

Claire was already at the mall when he arrived, stood next to the escalator and waving when she saw him.

“Hey.” She said cheerfully when he got to her. “Are you okay? Your texts sounded desperate and I- Jesus you look awful, what the hell happened?”

“I fucked up so bad.” Bucky mumbled. “I mean… I didn’t have much of a choice but… Everything’s just a mess right now and I need to yell at you for a while.”

Claire nodded understandingly, draping her arm around his shoulder and leading him up the escalator. “Tell me everything.”

“Okay,” He said slowly, trying to decide on the best way to explain the situation. “You remember dickhead ex?”

“Steve? How could I forget?”

“He’s kind of… in my apartment. Like, right now. He showed up last night.”

“Oh my god. Did you sleep with him? You slept with him. Bucky tell me you didn’t sleep with him. I can’t believe you’d-”

“I didn’t sleep with him! Christ!” Bucky interrupted, shuddering at the thought. “He slept on my couch.”

She clutched her chest in relief. “Thank God. What’s he doing in your apartment?”

Bucky paused. What was the regular person alternative to ‘on the run from the authorities after pissing off iron man and the entire government of the world’?

“He uh… got kicked out of his apartment?”

“Right… but that doesn’t explain why you let him into _your_ apartment.”

“What was I supposed to do?” He asked. “He didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I know somewhere he can go.” Claire muttered, folding her arms smugly.

“Is it hell? Are you gonna say hell?”

“Yes. He can go to hell.”

Bucky shook his head and Claire frowned, cocking her eyebrow at him.

“What’s the matter with you?” She asked, nudging his arm. “Usually you’re the first in line to drag him through the mud.”

“Yeah…” He trailed off.

Claire looked at him expectantly and he hung his head, avoiding her eyes.

“He’s been really nice to me since he arrived. I just… I don’t know. I can’t be an asshole to him when he’s being nice to me. He bought me waffles earlier.”

“Bucky, he needs a place to stay. _Obviously_ he’s being nice to you. He doesn’t want to end up on the streets.” She told him. “Has he said anything yet? About what he did?”

“Not yet.” Bucky said, shaking his head. “I yelled at him about it last night to get it off my chest, but we haven’t talked about it since. I’m kinda glad though. The last thing I need is an awkward conversation about our feelings.”

Claire was quiet for a while, following him around the mall and into the first clothes store they found. He knew she was annoyed at him, but he also knew she wasn’t going to say that to him. She was right. Obviously she was right. That was the whole reason he’d invited her out in the first place, to be his voice of reason. Steve had been in his apartment for less than twelve hours and already he felt like he was losing his mind. He’d spent a year telling everybody that Steve was the very epitome of evil, so much so that he’d convinced himself it was true. He knew Claire was right. He knew that Steve was only being nice to him because he had to be. But that didn’t change the fact that everything he’d convinced himself to be true of Steve was crashing down around him.

“I don’t like this, Bucky.” Claire said quietly, pulling him back into reality. “I don’t like this at all.”

“I didn’t expect you to like it.”

“I’m serious. He completely destroyed you. I’ve never seen anybody in such a bad state as when he left you, and I work in a hospital!”

“I know.” He mumbled.

She was right, again. He had been a complete mess for weeks. It was over two weeks before he even left the house. The only reason he didn’t starve to death was because Claire made regular visits with food and refused to leave him until he’d eaten at least a few bites. She put her hand on his shoulder gently and looked up at him, her face softer now.

“I can’t see you like that again, Buck. It would break my heart if he did that to you again.” She said softly, squeezing his shoulder. “Promise me you’ll look after yourself.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Okay. I’m gonna stop scolding you now.”

“In that case, now I’ll tell you that we’re here to buy him some clothes.” Bucky said, grabbing a shirt from the rack and hiding behind it before Claire could say anything. “He doesn’t have anything.”

“He was kicked out of his apartment and didn’t bring _any_ clothes with him? What kind of life is this guy leading?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Bucky mumbled, sifting through the shirts on the rack. “What the fuck am I supposed to tell Chris?”

“That you don’t love him and you want to break up.”

“I mean specifically regarding the ex-boyfriend in my apartment.” He said, shooting her a cold look. “Remember when we went out for your birthday and he convinced himself I was flirting with the waiter because I said hello to him? And then he wouldn’t let me out of his sight for the rest of the night?”

“I’m never inviting him out again.” Claire said, shaking her head.

Bucky sighed to himself. He wished he could just figure that guy out. When they were alone together it was easy to forget they were even dating, but around other people? He got so weird and possessive all of a sudden. There was no way he’d be able to break the news that his ex was living with him without him being weird about it.

“I’ve… I gotta tell him though, right?” He said uncertainly. “I mean I can’t just not tell him, can I? I’ve gotta tell him.”

“You should probably tell him.” Claire agreed, holding up a pair of jeans for his approval. “Just break it to him gently.”

“Oh god. What if he wants to meet him and assert his dominance?”

“Well, maybe that would be a good thing?” She suggested. “He might put Steve in his place.”

“I’m not sure anyone could put Steve in his place.” Bucky muttered. “Besides, it would just make everything worse. I can’t let Steve know I’m in a failing relationship, he’ll just be smug about it.”

Claire rolled her eyes and Bucky turned his back on her, searching for some sweaters that would be big enough for Steve’s inhumanely large torso. Steve’s huge frame had never been an issue when they were dating. He’d intentionally buy shirts for him in a size down and soak up the sight of the sleeves stretching around the muscles in his arms. He managed to find a decent amount of clothes in Steve’s size, carrying them across the store and ignoring the checkout girl’s disgruntled look when he dumped them all in a messy pile on the counter.

“Do you want a bag for these?” She mumbled, not looking up at him as she scanned everything.

Bucky looked down at the huge pile of clothes on the counter, then back up at her, then back down at the pile. “Uh… yes… please?” He said, doing his best _not_ to sound like an asshole.

Once everything was bagged and paid for, Claire announced that she needed to grab a few things, so he followed her around the mall for a while, chatting absentmindedly with her. He was stood, leaning against a display counter waiting for her to pay for some makeup when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. An unknown number flashed up on the screen and he frowned, answering it cautiously.

“Who is this?” He asked, immediately tensing up when he heard Steve’s voice on the other end.

“It’s me.” He said, pausing for a moment. “Uh… how are you?”

“Did you phone me for a nice catch up?”

“No, I was just-“

“How do you even have my number?” Bucky interrupted. “Did you hack into my phone while I was asleep _again_?”

“What? No! I just remembered it.”

“You remembered my phone number from over a year ago?”

“Bucky, I have about four friends. It’s not exactly hard for me to remember everyone’s numbers.”

“I’m not your friend.” He muttered.

He swore he could almost hear Steve rolling his eyes over the line, but he didn’t reply. It was quiet for a moment before Bucky finally asked, “What do you want then?”

“Oh right, I was just wondering where you moved the pop-tarts to? They used to be in the cabinet next to the fridge but I can’t find them.”

“I don’t have any. I only bought them because you liked them.”

“Oh…”

Bucky sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You want me to pick some up on my way back?”

“Yes please.”

“You’re such a fucking child.”

“I’d get them myself if it weren’t for the whole… you know… situation.”

“You mean the fact that you’re wanted on counts of treason?”

“Yeah, that.” Steve said quietly. “I’ll see you later.”

The line went dead and Bucky shook his head despairingly, heading over to Claire, who was just finishing up paying.

“I swear to God, Claire. It’s like I’ve got a toddler living in my apartment.” He muttered, walking with her to the door.

They made it about ten steps before his phone buzzed again, and he answered it angrily without even looking at the screen.

“What now, asshole? You want me to pick you up a fucking pacifier? Some diapers?”

“Uh… what?”

He heard Chris’ voice and felt his whole face turn red, ignoring Claire’s questioning look and laughing nervously.

“Oh uh… Hey, babe. What’s up?”

“I… who did you think I was?” Chris asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Everything’s fine! I was just… it’s a long story. What did you want?”

“I was just checking up on you. You were really weird last night and then you didn’t call me today so I just… wanted to make sure you were okay. Maybe I should come over?”

“No!” Bucky blurted out, frantically racking his brain for an excuse. “My uh… my apartment’s a mess.” _Oh yeah, good one, Barnes._ “I’ll come to you.”

“Okay…” Chris said slowly. “I’ll see you soon then, I guess.”

Bucky hung up the phone before he could dig himself into an even deeper hole. Shoving his phone in his pocket, he hid his face in his hands and groaned loudly. Was nothing easy? Could he not just invite his superhero ex-boyfriend, who was wanted by the government, into his apartment without things being complicated? Was that so much to ask?

“You good?” Claire asked, looking him up and down.

“What? Yeah I’m fine.” He stammered. “Gotta go see my needy and overbearing boyfriend.”

“Which one?”

“Steve is _not_ my boyfriend.” Bucky spat. “He’s not even my friend. He’s a spider.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Forget it.” He muttered. “I gotta go.”

Claire walked him back to the parking lot and they said their goodbyes. Shoving the bag of clothes onto the backseat, he got in his car and drove off. In the car, he pondered potential explanations for why Steve was now in his apartment, trying to think of something that might not cause Chris to overreact. Steve’s whole house burned down and he had nowhere to live? He was conducting psychological research into the behaviour patterns of assholes, and was keeping Steve in his apartment to study him? He could just _tell_ him that Steve was on the run from the police? Then he wouldn’t even have to lie. Or maybe just straight up tell him that he was having an illicit affair with his ex and break up with him right there and then. Two birds, one stone. As he pulled up in Chris’ drive, he settled on telling him the same story he’d told Claire. With his memory it would be hard enough maintaining one made up story, let alone two.

Chris was waiting in the doorway, waving as he approached.

“Hey.” He said when Bucky reached him. “What took you so long?”

“I… where you waiting for me?”

“I was worried about you.” He shrugged, holding the door open and showing him inside. “What’s going on?”

“It’s uh… a really long and complicated story.” Bucky said absently, pushing past him and into the sitting from.

It wasn’t a long and complicated story at all. His ex was staying in his apartment. That was it. That was the whole story. But with Chris involved, it was probably going to become a complicated story. Flopping down on the couch, he waited for Chris to join him, chewing on his lip when he looked at him expectantly.

“Okay.” He said slowly. “You have to promise you’re not gonna freak out.”

Chris frowned at him, shifting in his seat. “What do you mean freak out? Why would I freak out? What’s going on?”

“Just promise.”

“Fine, I promise. Now what the hell is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He insisted. _Great, start as you mean to go on, by lying._ “It’s just… Steve… my ex… the one I told you about…”

“What did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Is he stalking you? I’ll kill him.”

“Hey, you promised not to freak out.” Bucky reminded him. “He didn’t do any of that. He’s just… he’s kind of staying at my apartment for a while.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something and Bucky quickly added, “You _promised_ not to freak out.”

He closed his mouth again, and Bucky watched as he bit his tongue and did his best not to freak out at him. Finally, after a few minutes, he spoke in a calmer voice.

“What do you mean he’s staying at your apartment?” He asked, shifting restlessly.

“He got kicked out of his place, so I’m letting him crash on my couch.”

“How long for?”

Bucky paused, realising suddenly that he had no idea how to answer that. How long was Steve going to be in his apartment? A few weeks? A few months? Was Steve planning on staying there forever? The threat of arrest wasn’t going to just disappear.

“Well?” Chris demanded impatiently. “How long is he staying with you?”

“I don’t know! Until he finds a new place I guess.”

Chris fidgeted on the couch, folding his arms and pouting like a grumpy toddler. They sat in silence for a while, and Bucky found himself starting to get hopeful. Maybe it really would be that easy. He’d been bracing himself for Chris to put up a ridiculous fight about the whole thing, but for a brief, beautiful moment it seemed like he was going to let it go.

Tragically, after a couple of minutes, Chris spoke.

“Maybe I should stay with you for a while.” He mumbled quietly, looking down at his hands. “You know, just in case.”

Bucky frowned at him, confused. “In case of what?”

“In case you get… tempted.”

“ _Tempted!?”_ He exclaimed, staring at him open mouthed in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well you’ve been with him before and-”

“Yeah, and he was an asshole to me.”

“But he might try to hit on you or something!” Chris said defensively. “I’d just feel more comfortable if I could keep an eye on him.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you’re comfortable with! This isn’t about you! I can’t… I mean Jesus fucking Christ do you not think I have enough independent thought to tell him to back off myself? I have a fucking bionic arm for crying out loud. I think I can take care of myself.”

Slumping back against the couch, Bucky rubbed his temples and let out a frustrated sigh. “I never should have told you. I knew you’d get like this.” He muttered. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

“I’m just worried about you.”

“No you’re not.” Bucky interrupted. “The guy who ruined my life is in my apartment and all you’re worried about is whether I want to fuck him.”

Chris chewed on his lip for a moment and Bucky thought maybe he’d gotten through to him, until he mumbled, “ _Do_ you want to fuck him?”

“Oh my god. I’m leaving.” Bucky said bluntly, getting to his feet. He made it two steps before Steve leapt up and stood in front of him.

“Wait.” He said as he took Bucky’s hands. “Wait, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Of all the people on earth, Chris was probably the last person he wanted to sit with and talk to about his feelings. Well, second last. He’d still take this over talking to Steve. But right now his need for physical affection was outweighing his common sense, and when Chris squeezed his hands he leant forwards, nestling his head against the crook of his neck and letting out a pathetic little whine.

“You want a hug?” Chris asked.

Bucky nodded against his neck, sighing when Chris wrapped his arms around him. They stood in the middle of the room for a while until Bucky shifted his feet uncomfortably, his legs starting to ache from the awkward position.

“You wanna sit down?”

He nodded again and Chris sat back down on the couch, pulling Bucky down with him. Bucky curled up tightly and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. For a while all he could think about was what a shitty hugger Chris was. He may as well have been hugging a pillow for all the affection he was getting. It was like Chris’ arms had just fallen onto him rather than wrapped around him on purpose. Chris was probably thinking about treadmills or whatever it was that jocks usually thought about. He wished he _would_ start hugging him properly, so he wouldn’t have to fight off the thought that was lingering in the back of his mind. The thought of how much better Steve’s hugs had always been. It was the last thing he wanted to think about, but god, deep down he really wished it was Steve hugging him right now.

No. He didn’t wish Steve was hugging him. Just someone with his exact hugging ability. A completely separate person who could hug him the same way Steve used to. Yeah, that’s what he wanted.

He hated how well he could remember Steve’s hugs. They always felt like home. He could remember all the times he’d had a rough day at work, all the times his anxiety had gotten bad, or just times when he felt like crap for no reason. Steve would pull him into his arms and they’d just sit together, on the couch or on the bed, and Bucky always felt so safe. Like he was in a protective bubble, shielded away from the rest of the world. It felt like time slowed down. They might only sit there for half an hour but it would feel like a whole afternoon, and afterwards he’d feel so refreshed and energised that it was almost like he’d taken a full vacation.

Sighing, he snuggled closer to Chris, desperately chasing anything close to the feeling he was missing. It wasn’t the same. It would never be anywhere near the same. He’d loved Steve, so much it hurt, and he just… didn’t love Chris. He probably never would. _Shit._ He had to break up with him.

“Buck?”

His heart stopped for a moment and he thought maybe he’d accidentally said that out loud, but Chris looked unbothered when he looked up.

“You wanna hear about this thing that happened at the gym today?”

_Do it. Break up with him. Just fucking do it._

“Sure.”

_Moron._

Chris leant back against the couch, looking off into the distance. “So there was this new guy, right, and I swear he must have never seen a treadmill in his life before.”

He really had been thinking about treadmills. Incredible. Chris continued with his treadmill story, and Bucky made a valiant effort to pay attention, but he just couldn’t do it. He was just too boring.

He definitely had to break up with him, but how was he supposed to do it now? He’d just told him that his ex was staying at his apartment. If he broke up with him now, it would seem suspicious. But if he _didn’t_ … he’d have more gym stories to listen to. Maybe he could stick it out for a couple more days.

“Anyway,” Chris said abruptly, bringing him back into reality. “You feeling better now?”

“Uh, yeah I guess.” Bucky mumbled. _No thanks to you_.

“Cool. I was thinking maybe you could stay over tonight?”

Bucky frowned up at him, shaking his head. “I can’t, I have to get back. I got some stuff for Steve sitting in my car.”

He could see the visible discomfort on Chris’ face as when he said that. His jaw clenching before he spoke.

“You could drop it off and then come back.”

Oh, _of course_. Bucky could see what he was doing now.

“You’re still trying to keep me away from him.” He accused. “I can’t believe you.”

“How am _I_ the bad guy here? He’s the one that left you. You’re bending over backwards for the guy, letting him stay in your house and buying him new shit, and for what? I don’t get it. Do you think he’s gonna change his mind if you do all this for him?”

“That’s not why I’m doing it.” Bucky muttered, shuffling backwards and looking away from him.

“He’s not gonna love you again just because you’re letting him stay on your couch. Hell, he probably never loved you in the first place!”

There was no reason, no rational reason for that to hurt so much. He’d told himself a hundred times that Steve couldn’t have loved him. If anything, it had become something of a reassurance, convincing himself that none of it had ever mattered. But hearing someone else say it made it more real. He stared at him, his bottom lip trembling and almost completely speechless.

“I’m leaving.” He managed to say, getting to his feet. “And I don’t wanna see you again.”

“What?”

“We’re done.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Chris muttered, grabbing his arm to stop him from leaving. “Is this because of him? Did he tell you to do this? Is he threatening you?”

“What? No, you idiot. I don’t like you. I literally just don’t like you. I was in a shitty place when I met you and I convinced myself that this whole thing would be good for me but it just… wasn’t. I shouldn’t have even let it get this far.”

“He’s manipulating you.” He said, clearly not taking in anything he was actually saying. “He’s just trying to control you.”

“You’re the only one trying to control me. I’m leaving.” He repeated, more bluntly this time, yanking his arm out of Chris’ grasp.

Chris stared at him, bemused, as he walked confidently out of the room. He maintained his confident stance all the way down the hall, through the door, into his car, and for the majority of the drive home. It wasn’t until he pulled up outside his apartment that the reality of what he’d done hit him. Suddenly he was hit with a whole wave of emotions, completely overwhelming him. He hung his head, thumping his forehead against the steering wheel, tears stinging his eyes as he took a few deep breaths. He was so angry at Chris for saying those things to him, for treating him like such a helpless idiot, but he still felt guilty for ending things so abruptly. He’d always imagined that when things ended, it would be some kind of civil discussion and they’d happily go their separate ways. And what kind of person did that make him? That he’d always had a plan of how his relationship was going to end. Aside from today, Chris had never done anything wrong, and Bucky had strung him along in a relationship that he knew was going nowhere. He found someone that liked him and treated him nicely and he just pushed him away, like he always did, and now he was alone again. The man who broke his heart was in his apartment, he was probably at his most emotionally vulnerable, and he’d pushed everyone away, so now he had to go through it alone.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but when he finally looked up again he saw one of his neighbours staring at him from the apartment door. Cringing, he quickly pulled himself together, wiping the tears away from his face on the back of his sleeve and getting out of the car.

“Afternoon, Ms Patel.” He mumbled as he approached her, unable to look at her directly.

“James,” She said sadly, reaching out and touching his arm gently. “Are you alright, my love? Do you want to come in for some tea?”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile. Ms Patel was one of the only other people living in the apartment block that he ever spoke to. A letter of hers was left in his mailbox by mistake, and when he delivered it to her she invited him in. If he’d known she was hosting a dinner party, he would have said no straight away, but instead he ended up accidentally having dinner with her entire extended family.

Shaking his head, he gestured towards the shopping bags in his hand. “I have to get back.” He told her, shuffling past and pushing the door open. “I’ll uh… I’ll see you later.”

“Well, my door is always open to you.”

Bucky couldn’t help but wonder whether she’d still say that if she knew he was harbouring a fugitive in their building, but he just smiled, waving at her before heading up the stairs to his apartment.

Steve was sat on the couch when he opened the door, his feet propped up on the coffee table and a small sketchbook in his hand. He was staring so intently at his drawing that it was a few moments before he noticed Bucky kicking his shoes off by the door.

“Oh, you’re back.” He observed, setting the sketchbook down on his lap. “You were gone for ages, I was about to call you again.”

“Yeah, I uh… got held up.” Bucky mumbled as he walked across the room, dumping the shopping bags on the floor and collapsing on the other side of the couch.

Steve leant down, fishing through one of the bags and examining a few of the shirts. “Did you get pop-tarts?” He asked hopefully, looking back up at him.

Bucky paused, dragging his hand down his face and cursing himself internally.

“Shit.” He muttered. “I completely forgot.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve shrugged, waving him off nonchalantly.

He might have said something after that, but Bucky didn’t listen. After everything that had happened today, _pop-tarts_ were gonna be what pushed him completely over the edge. He didn’t do anything, he couldn’t do anything, he just shut down. He sat, staring at the wall in front of him, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now but unable to even form a coherent thought. Steve touched his arm and he flinched, looking over at him.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, frowning at him.

Bucky chewed on his lip hesitantly. He didn’t want Steve to be the one he talked to about this. “I’m just… mad at myself for forgetting your pop-tarts.”

It wasn’t technically a lie, he was annoyed at himself for forgetting, but Steve didn’t look remotely convinced.

“You’re not upset about pop-tarts, Buck. Did something happen?”

“Fine, you wanna know what’s wrong? My boyfriend and I broke up and my neighbour just saw me crying in my car. And to top it all off, my shitty ex is staying on my couch.”

“You… your boyfriend broke up with you?” Steve asked, shifting uncomfortably. “Was it… because of me?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him, clenching his jaw angrily. Of course Steve thought his righteous ass was at the centre of Bucky’s life.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He muttered. “You just want to keep fucking everything up for me.”

“What? No. Bucky I-”

“Well jokes on you because he didn’t break up with me. I broke up with him. And it wasn’t because of you, it was because I’d never been happy with him. But I guess that satisfies you even more, huh? Knowing that nothing has made me happy since you left.”

“Bucky!” Steve cried, finally managing to get a word in. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. I never wanted you to be unhappy. All I wanted was for you to be happy!”

“Well congratulations, you failed monumentally.”

Bucky got to his feet and stormed over to the kitchen, leaving Steve on the couch to process. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from the kitchen, but he had to dramatically claim the last word somehow. In the end all he did was pour himself a glass of water, sipping it slowly in the corner for a while before returning to the couch.

When he walked back, Steve was hunched over, his shoulders shaking, and it took a moment for Bucky to register what was going on.

Putting his hand on his hip, he stared at him in disbelief. “Really? My relationship just ended and _you’re_ crying?”

“I’m not crying.” Steve sniffled, wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

“My mistake. Clearly your face just sprung a leak. You want me to call a plumber, you dumbass?”

Steve huffed out an attempt at a laugh, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly. “It’s just… all of this is my fault. I left because I wanted to protect you but even then I still managed to get myself into this ridiculous fucking situation and I’ve dragged you straight back into it again.”

“I mean… it’s not _completely_ your fault.” Bucky said. Was he trying to cheer the guy up now? Apparently so. “The government’s being a bitch, as per usual. It’s their fault.”

“No, it’s my fault.” Steve said, shaking his head. “I should have just agreed to the accords instead of picking a fight.”

“What? No, Steve, the accords were bullshit.” Bucky told him, sitting back down next to him. “There’s no way you could’a signed them.”

“Are you… are you _agreeing_ with me?”

The disbelief in Steve’s voice made him laugh.

“I know, I’m surprised too.” He shrugged. “But I think you were right. Throwing your shield at Stark’s head might have been a bit much, but I guess it’s just not in your nature to make a point without throwing a couple of punches too.”

Steve chuckled and Bucky found himself smiling too, turning his head in the hopes that Steve wouldn’t notice.

“I guess we’ve both had a pretty intense couple of days.” Steve sighed, leaning back against the couch and staring into the distance.

Bucky nodded. In a way their situations were pretty similar, if a little different in intensity. Steve had cut out every single one of his friends and acquaintances, Bucky had broken up with a boyfriend he didn’t like. They were kinda the same.

“I guess so.” He said after a while, looking over at Steve again. “At least I didn’t shoot Chris when I broke up with him.”

“Hey, I didn’t shoot anyone! I don’t even have a gun! Tony shot _me_.”

“Well in my situation there were no guns involved at all! Or metal supersuits, or vibranium shields, because my life isn’t fucking insane!”

 Steve rolled his eyes at him. “I guess. Still, you looked pretty upset when you got in, and you said you were crying in your car.”

“So?”

“So, maybe you didn’t get _shot_ , but you got hurt.”

Instinctively, Bucky sunk into the corner of the couch, folding his arms defensively. “He said some shitty things to me.” He mumbled. There was no _way_ he was telling Steve what Chris said. He didn’t need to have that conversation right now. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I mean… do you want a hug or something?”

“I’m not hugging you.” Bucky said coldly. “I’m fine, I don’t care.”

He didn’t look convinced, but Steve left it alone, picking his sketchbook back up and settling himself against the arm of the couch.

“The offer’s there if you want it.” He shrugged, as he went back to sketching.

Bucky watched him curiously. He always used to love watching him drawing. He’d obviously never known Steve before he got the serum, and save for a few blurry old photographs, he’d never really even seen what he looked like. But he felt like he was getting a glimpse of him now. His whole aura changed, the way he sat, the way he held himself. There was something delicate about him. His face softened, all the roughness, the years of war and fighting slipped away and he just looked… small. But his eyes were intense, focused. Bucky could walk across the room and kick his TV to pieces and Steve probably wouldn’t even blink. He wished everyone could see this side to him. Especially now. Steve might be an asshole and a shitty boyfriend, but he wasn’t a criminal. Well, maybe _technically_ he was a criminal, but not because he was a bad person. If people could see him like this, with his hair hanging in his face and shining golden in the dim light, his forehead creased as he concentrated, and his lashes casting soft shadows across his face, then they’d know he wasn’t the guy the media was making him out to be.

Steve glanced up and Bucky realised he’d been staring at him for almost ten minutes. Blushing furiously, he turned his head away and sunk back into the couch, hoping that maybe it would swallow him up completely. He thought that maybe he’d gotten away with it, but then he heard Steve’s low chuckle and cringed, getting to his feet and speeding over to the bathroom to escape him.

“Stupid asshole and his stupid pretty face.” He muttered to himself once he was out of earshot, deciding to busy himself by doing some laundry and scooping up the contents of the laundry basket. He staggered through the door and crammed everything into the machine. With the laundry on, he pottered around the house, cleaning and tidying as he went and attempting to keep his mind occupied. He was halfway through deep cleaning the kitchen when he heard his phone ringing.

He reached into his pocket, but found it empty.

“Shit.” He said under his breath, standing upright and trying to listen out for where the sound was coming from.

“It’s over here.” Steve called from the other side of the room, still not looking up from his sketchbook.

Bucky hurried over and grabbed the phone from where it was lying on the couch, sitting down and putting his feet up on the coffee table before checking the screen. A video call from mom. Perfect. Taking a deep breath, he answered the call and was immediately confronted with the image of his mom, red faced and sweaty with her hair clinging to her forehead.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She said, breathlessly, how are you.

“Uh… I’m fine?” He said slowly, looking her up and down. “You look… nice.”

“I just finished a spinning class.”

“And you couldn’t wait until after you’d had a shower to call me?”

“Don’t be rude, James.” She muttered. “I’ve been worried about you. I know you were a little down yesterday. You know, because of everything with Steve.”

Bucky could feel Steve looking up next to him and he felt his cheeks reddening.

“Uh, mom? Can we not-”

“I know you’ve been having some conflicting feelings and-”

“Steve say hi!” Bucky interjected, turning the phone towards Steve and yelping when Steve practically rugby tackled him on the couch, grabbing the phone from him and turning it away from his face.

“I can’t be on a video call with your _mom_ , you idiot!” He yelled, and Bucky felt his stomach drop.

“Oh, right, shit. The whole fugitive thing.”

Steve paused on top of him. “Oh… yeah I mean… that too. I just didn’t want her to yell at me… after I dumped you and everything.”

“Idiot.” Bucky muttered, grabbing his phone back and shoving Steve’s chest roughly. “Get off me, dumbass.”

Steve clambered awkwardly off him, shuffling back over to his end of the couch and looking down shamefully.

“James?” His mom asked quietly, her face surprisingly calm and composed when Bucky looked back at the screen.

“Mm?”

“What the fuck!?”

“I can explain.”

“You better.”

“Uh…” Bucky trailed off, chewing on his lip for a moment. “Actually I can’t really explain.”

“James I swear to god if you’re sleeping with him I’ll kill you both.”

“Why does everyone keep assuming that!?” Bucky cried, his face heating up again. “I’m not sleeping with him! He’s just staying here for a while. Jesus, I have standards now you know.”

Steve made an offended noise from across the couch but Bucky ignored him, slumping back grumpily.

“Yes.” His mom said flatly. “Clearly your standards are _so_ high now, as proven by the man you’re dating, whom you hate.”

“Uh… about that.” Bucky mumbled quietly. “We’re not dating anymore.”

“You dumped him?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, James!” She said, clapping her hands together excitedly. “I’m so proud of you. That’s so wonderful!”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous reaction, shaking his head despairingly. They talked for a while, Bucky explained the breakup in elaborate detail, skipping over Chris’ comment about Steve of course, and she showered him with praise. Aside from her initial reaction, she seemed fairly unbothered about Steve staying with him. But then, she’d always been remarkably chill about him dating a superhero in the first place. She didn’t even mention it again until he was saying goodbye to her, suddenly piping up again.

“Is Steve still there?” She asked. “I need to tell him something.”

Bucky nodded, glancing over at him. He’d barely moved the whole time they’d been talking, but now he looked up again, the faintest glint of fear in his eyes.

“Uh…” Steve said hesitantly. “Hi Miss Barnes.”

“Hi, honey. How are you?”

“I’ve been better.”

“That’s a shame. Anyway, I just want to let you know that if you ever hurt my baby boy again, I’ll hunt you down and smash your skull in.”

“Mom!” Bucky cut in. “Jesus Christ!”

She just shrugged, smiling at him cheerily. “I’ll talk to you later, sweetheart. Love you!”

Bucky mumbled a slightly confused goodbye, hanging up and setting his phone down on the coffee table. When he looked back over, Steve was still sketching intently, and his curiosity finally got the better of him.

“What are you drawing?” He asked, scooting closer to him and trying to peer over at the page.

“Oh, uh… Just this.” Steve said quietly. He looked embarrassed and a little sad as he handed the sketchbook over to him.

Taking it in his hands, Bucky examined the detailed sketch on the page. He recognised the woman in the picture instantly, her dark hair, bright eyes, and plump, smiling lips were unmistakable.

“Peggy?”

Steve nodded, and Bucky smiled, looking down at her picture fondly. He’d only met her once. They’d been feeling particularly daring, and Steve had agreed to take him on a covert daytrip to Washington. He’d taken him into the hospital introduced as “a friend” to the receptionist, but he told Peggy the truth. She was only awake for around twenty minutes of their visit, but in those twenty minutes she was so warm and friendly to him, Bucky understood immediately why Steve still cared so much about her.

“She died.” Steve said quietly, chewing on his lip. “Last week.”

Bucky felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He stared at him open mouthed for a moment, trying to process what he’d heard.

“She… I didn’t… There was no news about it.”

“Yeah, I guess the whole accords thing overshadowed everything else.” Steve sighed, taking the sketchbook back and looking down at it sadly. “I’m kinda glad though. The funeral would have been full of paps if it had been a big news story and I… she would have hated it.”

“I’m sorry, Stevie.” Bucky said softly.

He shuffled closer to him, reaching over and touching his shoulder gently. All of the anger and resentment went out the window for a second and he just sat there, squeezing his shoulder and looking up at him sadly. What he really wanted was to give him a hug, but he wasn’t sure they were at that point yet.

“She was all I had left.” Steve said, so quietly Bucky could barely hear him.

Frowning, he shook his head. “That’s not true.” He told him. “I mean, I know things with you and the others aren’t great right now but-”

“That’s not what I mean.” Steve interrupted. “I mean… She was the only thing left from my old life. Now that she’s gone I just… I don’t know, I kinda feel like the old me died too.”

He sighed and Bucky watched him, unsure of what to say.

“Before he died I promised Erskine I wouldn’t change who I was, but I think I’ve changed a lot.”

“You fought a Nazi skeleton, got frozen in ice for 70 years, then woke up and immediately had to fight aliens and robots. That’s gonna change a person.”

“I know.” Steve said quietly, looking down at his hands. “I’m just not sure I’m fighting for the right reason anymore. Feels like I’m just fighting for the sake of it. Usually Peggy would be the one to tell me if I was being overdramatic but now I guess I have to figure it out for myself.”

“Steve can I be real with you?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re being really overdramatic right now.”

Steve chuckled, leaning back and nodding. “I know.”

“I didn’t invite you into my home for free therapy.”

“I know. Sorry.” Steve smirked. “If you wanna kick me out, I get it.”

“I’m not gonna kick you out.” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head.

Despite Steve’s joking tone, he looked a little surprised by Bucky’s response, staying quiet for a moment as if waiting for a backhanded comment to follow.

“Oh.” He said. “I thought you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

Bucky shrugged. He’d thought the same thing too, at first. But the longer he sat and talked to him, the more comfortable he felt having him around. It was easy to remember why he’d fallen for him so quickly in the first place. Something about them just clicked. Even when they were arguing or just being standoffish with each other, something always felt right about it. And now, even with the awkwardness and the sheer insanity of the whole situation they’d found themselves in, Bucky still felt that same feeling in his gut.

“I think I need this.” Bucky said after a while, looking up at him and chewing on his lip hesitantly. “I’ve spent the last year stuck trying to process what you did to me. The only way I could deal with it was by just… hating you, and that just made me feel shittier. So I don’t know… Maybe this will actually help me move on from everything.”

“Yeah,” He said quietly, nodding in agreement. “Me too.”

Bucky frowned. “What do you have to get over?”

“You think I haven’t missed you like crazy? That I haven’t ever regretted what I did? It broke my fucking heart to do that to you, Buck.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to look taken aback. He stared at him, his mouth hanging open as he tried to put a sentence together. He’d always assumed that Steve had just left without a second thought. The idea that he’d thought about him at all since he’d left went against everything Bucky had been telling himself for the last year.

“I… you regret it?”

“I regret hurting you.”

“But you don’t regret leaving?”

Steve paused, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“I don’t know.” He said quietly. “At the time I was so certain that it was the right thing to do, but I… I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know for sure whether it was the right choice.”

They both sat in silence, neither of them looking at each other. Star provided a welcome distraction to Bucky for a while, trotting in from the bedroom and hopping onto his lap. He stroked Star’s fur for a while, staring into the distance while Steve breathed deeply next to him.

It was almost ten minutes before Steve finally broke the silence, mumbling so quietly that Bucky could only just make out what he was saying.

“I do regret it.” He said, looking over at him. “I had to do it. But I do regret it.”

Bucky chewed on his lip, shifting restlessly where he was sat.

“I’m never gonna forgive you.” He said after a few moments. “Not ever.”

“I know.”

“What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.”

Sighing, Bucky shooed Star off his lap and curled his legs up, resting his chin on his knees. “Today’s been weird.” He mumbled. “You wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure.” Steve shrugged, smiling as Bucky hopped to his feet and knelt down in front of his small stack of DVDs.

“Have you seen the new star wars yet?”

“There’s a new one? I thought you said that finished a decade ago?”

“What? No, they’re making more now. What fucking rock have you been living under!?” Bucky exclaimed, grabbing the movie from the pile. “We need to get you on twitter or something. You gotta connect with the world.”

“Sam already made me one.” Steve mumbled, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly. “I didn’t really take to it.”

“People sent you dick pics, didn’t they?”

“So many.”

“Prude.”

Steve tossed a pillow at his head and he giggled, batting it away and grabbing the remote to start the movie.

“You can’t blame them.” He said as he flopped back down onto the couch next to him. “I mean if the opportunity to show Captain America your dick presents itself, you can’t just pass it up can you?”

“You certainly didn’t.” Steve remarked, sniggering when Bucky whipped his head around to face him.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” He demanded. “You were the one showing up at my work every other fucking day, practically _begging_ me to feel you up for a few minutes. If anything, I showed you my dick out of pity.”

Steve bit back a laugh, settling back against the cushions and resting his arm along the back of the couch.

“Okay,” He said after a few minutes. “So this movie follows on from the last ones?”

“No, it follows on from the first ones, but the first ones are set after the last ones.” Bucky told him. “The first three are the originals, then the other three were prequels to the originals, and now this one is a sequel.”

“Bucky, just tell me what number this one is.”

“Seven.”

“Got it.”

“Good, now shut up.”

Steve fell silent while Bucky squirmed around on the couch, trying to find a comfortable spot to sit in, grumbling to himself.

“Steve?” He asked after a few minutes, folding his arms and looking away, embarrassed, when Steve looked up. “Can I get that hug now?”

He didn’t say anything, just stretched his arm out in an open invitation and pulled him closer when Bucky scooted over. He settled into a comfy spot almost instantly, curling up and resting his head against Steve’s chest. It was easy to get comfy next to him, it was like their bodies had been designed to slot next to each other.

“Is this weird?” He asked, looking up at him uncertainly. “Should we be hugging?”

“It doesn’t feel weird.” Steve shrugged. “Do you think it’s weird?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Do you think we should talk about it? Us, I mean?”

“That would make it weird.” Bucky mumbled. “Just watch the movie.”

Steve nodded, wrapping his arm around Bucky’s waist and letting out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t remember any of these characters.”

“They’re new characters, you idiot.”

“You said it was a sequel!”

“It is! It’ll make sense if you watch it.”

Bucky shook his head despairingly, ignoring Steve’s confused muttering and focusing on the movie instead. He had no idea what was going on between them anymore, no idea what it would be like cohabiting with him again, and no idea how long Steve would be staying for. All he knew was that after everything, Steve’s hugs still felt like home.


	4. The Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long I have no excuse I'm just lazy.

Two weeks had passed since Steve first arrived on Bucky’s doorstep, and he’d managed to more or less fall back into a normal routine. It didn’t feel quite as weird as Bucky had expected it to. Or perhaps he’d just grown accustomed to weird. After all, having a superhero ex-boyfriend living in his apartment was really no more unusual than having a superhero boyfriend used to be. When Steve had left, he’d said in his note that he’d hoped Bucky could have a normal life, but the reality was that even if he’d never seen Steve again, his life had already strayed off course far too much for it to ever truly go back to normal. Ironically, his life felt much more normal now that Steve was sleeping on his couch than it ever had while he’d been gone.

He’d chosen to deal with this whole situation the same way he dealt with everything: by ignoring it. Was it healthy to repress his feelings and refuse to face an issue? Who knows, Bucky was a nurse not a psychologist. The only thing he knew for sure was that not thinking about his relationship with Steve, or more specifically, the end of his relationship with Steve, everything felt a lot nicer and more manageable. Steve seemed to be adopting the same technique too. It wasn’t like they weren’t talking to each other. In fact, whenever Bucky was home they’d spend most of their time talking. But neither of them ever mentioned anything about their past, or if they did, it was never anything more than an offhand comment. Most of the time it was fine. It was like he just had an old acquaintance staying over, rather than the love of his life who tore his heart to pieces. Other times, Bucky found himself missing that life. There were little things Steve would do or say that reminded him of how things used to be, and he found himself longing for it. For brief moments, he forgot about the pain, and all he could think about were the good times.

Things were fine, but _Christ_ , he’d forgotten how expensive it was to live with Steve. He was just getting in from his third grocery shop of the week, staggering up the stairs with five bags on each arm. As soon as he got through the door Steve was in his face, taking most of the bags out of his hands and carrying them the rest of the way over to the kitchen counter. He started rifling through them frantically and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Your sandwich is in here.” He told him, lifting the bag he was holding and taking a step back when Steve snatched it out of his hand.

“Slow down. Jesus.” He scolded as Steve tore the packet open and started cramming the sandwich into his mouth.

“’M starvin’.” Steve said with his mouth full. “Did’ya get more?”

“I got three, and some microwave meals.”

“You’re the best.”

“You’re a pig.”

“’S my metabolism.” He shrugged. “I can’t help it.”

“I wasn’t talking about your eating. I just meant in general.”

Steve nodded. He’d long since given up trying to argue any kind of case against Bucky’s constant barrage of insults, now just accepting them as they came. Grabbing the remaining sandwiches from another bag, he scuttled off to the couch to gorge himself while Bucky unpacked the groceries.

It felt so normal. Too normal. Every moment like this Bucky felt himself slipping back, felt memories that he’d pushed to the furthest recesses of his mind being unlocked again. There had been so many moments like this before. Just normal moments. Unpacking groceries or washing the dishes while Steve ate or watched TV. Before, moments like this would end with cuddles on the couch and quiet talking about nothing in particular. Maybe one of them would say something stupid and they’d end up laughing about it for hours. Maybe one of them would pull the other in for a kiss and they’d end up not talking much at all.

Bucky shook his head. His mind had been wandering way too much for his liking this past couple of days. He put it down entirely to his current lack of a boyfriend. The only man he’d interacted with on a significant level since dumping Chris was Steve, and he had no intention of sleeping with him any time soon. Sighing, he abandoned the groceries and decided to make himself a coffee instead. He swung open the kitchen cabinet and stared inside, frowning to himself.

“Steve, where’s my mug?” He asked, looking over his shoulder.

“The grumpy cat one?”

“Obviously.”

“It’s on the table. I’ll get it.” Steve mumbled getting to his feet and walking over to him.

“I don’t understand why you buy other mugs when you only ever use this one.” He said as he rinsed the mug in the sink for him. “You don’t need 15 mugs.”

“Sometimes I have guests who need to use a mug.” Bucky shrugged. “And sometimes those guests are vigilante superheroes who use three separate mugs instead of washing them.

“I’m just saying you don’t need _that_ many.” Steve said, ignoring the dig and handing the mug to him.

“Whatever. Thanks, babe.”

He took the mug and turned around to start making coffee when he realised what he’d said. He paused, looking back over his shoulder. They stared at each other. Star, who was midway through licking his own asshole on the kitchen floor, stopped and looked up at them. Time itself came to a standstill as beads of sweat formed on Bucky’s forehead and he silently prayed that Steve hadn’t heard him.

“Uh…” Steve said slowly, “What did you say?”

_Fuck. Fucking shit fuck fuckity fucking shitting hell fucking shit son of a bitching fuck ass fucking shit shitting fuckity fucking shit._

“I said ‘thanks, man’.” He said coolly. “That’s what I said.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah. So uh… anyway. Thanks… for bringing me the mug.”

He’d gotten away with it. He’d actually fucking gotten away with it. God really was up there looking out for him.

“Well, you’re welcome,” Steve said quietly, taking a few steps before looking over his shoulder and smirking at him, “Honey.”

“Oh _fuck_ you.”

Steve made a run for it and locked himself in the bathroom before Bucky could get his hands on him to wring his neck, and he could hear him sniggering to himself from behind the door.

It was three days before Steve finally let that one go. Which meant Bucky had to endure three days of Steve addressing him by every pet name under the sun. It didn’t bother him most of the time, when they were ridiculous and over emphasised. It was easy to laugh it off or make a snide remark when Steve was calling him his “precious angel faced baby cake”. Unfortunately, Steve wasn’t always that ridiculous about it. Sometimes it was too casual, and Bucky would sometimes forget it was a joke, and just occasionally, he would wonder whether Steve had forgotten it was a joke too. A suspicion that was reaffirmed the following day.

28 hours had passed since Steve had addressed him as his “pwecious wittle dumpling”, and there had been no pet names of any sort thrown into conversation since then. To Bucky that could only mean one of three things: either Steve had finally gotten bored of making fun of him, or he’d just run out of ideas for names to call him. Both good news for him. The third, and arguably the most likely option, was that Steve was being nice to him after his shitty day at work. He’d gotten in late last night close to tears, and it seemed like a pretty big coincidence that Steve hadn’t made fun of him since then. It was stupid, really. He’d been in the same line of work for years, but he still got upset whenever an emergency patient was a kid. Even when the kid turned out fine, like they did last night, it always shook him up, so he’d spent last night and most of the day feeling like crap while Steve did his best to perk him up. Sure, it wasn’t _bad_ , that Steve was being nice to him, but it wasn’t good either. He was struggling enough as it was with conflicting feelings and emotions surrounding Steve and his presence, and this was only making things more confusing. He’d spent a year convincing himself that Steve was some kind of monster, to make it easier to hate him, but it was hard to keep that up anymore. How was he supposed to hate the guy when he was in the kitchen right now, with flour in his hair and all down his shirt, rolling out pastry to bake an apple pie just because he remembered how much Bucky loved them? He just couldn’t.

“You okay?” Steve asked, breaking his train of thought. “You’ve gone quiet.”

“I’m fine.” Bucky mumbled.

For once he wasn’t lying, he really was feeling okay, and Steve seemed to sense that, continuing with what he was doing rather than pushing it any further. Bucky watched him as he wiped his flour-covered hands on his already dirty shirt, frowning at him.

“You know I have an apron, right? You could’a worn it.”

“I know.” Steve said quietly. “It just seemed inappropriate.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him, reaching into the cabinet and holding up the black apron with “WILL COOK FOR SEX” printed across it in bright red letters.

“Okay…” Bucky said slowly, his cheeks flushing. “I see your point.”

Nodding, Steve set the apron back down. “Why did you even buy that?”

“I didn’t. My mom bought it for me.”

“That’s worse, Buck. That’s so much worse.”

“You’ve met my mom. Are you really surprised?”

“Your mom who, within ten minutes of talking to me for the first time, asked whether I could have multiple orgasms? No, I’m not surprised.” Steve muttered.

Bucky bit back a laugh, remembering the mortified look on Steve’s face when she’d asked him that. In his line of work he saw people in embarrassing situations pretty often, especially men, who would come hunched over into the examination room and attempt to describe the rash on their dick without using the word “rash” or “dick”. But despite all of that, he’d never in his life seen anybody look as red and embarrassed as Steve had in that moment.

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “That was hilarious.”

“It wasn’t hilarious. It was the most uncomfortable moment of my life, and I’ve literally been tortured.”

“You’re obviously exaggerating.”

“I’m not exaggerating.” Steve insisted. “I’m being completely genuine. I would rather be tortured by Nazis, _again_ , than have your mom ask me another sex related question.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re such a prude.” He muttered. “It’s the 21st century, Steve. People talk about sex stuff with their moms now.”

“No they don’t.” Steve said, setting his rolling pin down on the counter and pointing a finger accusingly at him. “Don’t try and put this down to me being out of touch with modern society. I’ve lived in the 21st century for six years and you are the _only_ person I’ve met who doesn’t mind discussing their boyfriend’s orgasm count with their mother.”

“Hmm.” Bucky hummed, nodding thoughtfully. “I mean, she walked in on me riding a guy about 2 days after I came out to her… boundaries aren’t much of a thing for us anymore.”

“Right, which is fine, but I want no part in it.”

“The thing is, Stevie,” He said bluntly. “Usually my mom wouldn’t ask boyfriends this kinda stuff, at least not until she knew them well enough. But I mean… You’re Captain America. You’ve seen the internet, you know how many discussion boards there are entirely dedicated to how you work, sex wise. People are gonna ask this stuff.”

“I guess.” Steve shrugged. “To be honest I’m surprised you didn’t start spilling every secret you had after we broke up. Could’a been internet famous or something.”

“I do have a sense of morality, you know.” Bucky muttered. “That, and I don’t wanna be famous as the guy Steve Rogers dumped.”

Steve nodded in silent understanding and Bucky continued, “I did join a discussion blog on tumblr though. Kept posting stuff that I knew wasn’t true just for fun.”

“I… What kind of stuff were you saying?”

Bucky frowned, chewing on his lip before mumbling, “You won’t like most of it.”

“Bucky, what did you say?”

“I need you to understand that this happened like, a week after you dumped me so there was some resentment behind a lot of-”

“ _Bucky_.”

“I may have posted this whole theory that you’d only last about 8 seconds in bed because the serum accelerated all your biological processes.” He mumbled, looking down at his hands. “It got over a hundred thousand reblogs.”  

Steve went quiet, turning his attention back to the pie, and Bucky watched him cautiously as he lined the pie dish and spooned the apples in.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked after a while as Steve put the pie in the oven.

“I’m not mad.”

“Okay… I feel like you are mad though.”

Shrugging, Steve set the oven mitts down on the counter and came over to sit next to him.

“I’m not mad.” He repeated quietly. “I just think it’s pretty rich that you’d spread something like that about me after that one time on New Year’s.”

“Shut up!” Bucky yelled, shoving him away. “That was _your_ fault! We hadn’t seen each other for almost a month! I was vulnerable and you took advantage of that.”

“We didn’t even _do anything_! We made out for maybe five minutes and bam! Suddenly the night was ruined for both of us.”

Bucky folded his arms grumpily, blushing and turning away from him. Stupid Steve and his stupid memory. How did they even end up talking about this? Did he bring up the sex thing? Did Steve? They’d been talking for so long he couldn’t even remember. Christ, was this to be his life now? Locked in a small apartment with his ex, talking about all the sex they used to have? Was he gonna live and die this way?

“How did we start talking about this?” Steve asked quietly, horrifyingly in tune with him as usual. “I just wanted to bake a pie, not reminisce on our sex life.”

“You’re the one who _had_ to bring up New Year’s. You could have just spat in my pie like a normal person and we could have moved on. But no, instead you had to degrade and humiliate me in front of everyone.”

“Everyone?” Steve frowned, glancing around the room. “The only other person here is Star.”

“My relationship with Star is built on mutual respect. You could have just ruined that.”

“He spends most of his time in the middle of your floor licking his own ass. He’s not in a position to judge you.”

That made Bucky feel oddly better about himself so he let it go, curling up and resting his head on the arm of the couch. They were both quiet for a while, the low hum of the oven behind them was the only sound in the room. A few minutes passed and Bucky rolled onto his back, kicking his legs out onto Steve’s lap to get more comfortable and staring up at the ceiling.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” He asked. “And I’m not asking it in like… A prying, jealous ex kind of way, I’m just genuinely curious.”

“Go for it.” Steve mumbled

“Have you dated anyone else? I mean, it’s kind of a stretch to say we _dated_ since we never actually went on an actual date but like… You know what I mean.”

“You’re asking if, since breaking up with you a year ago specifically because I didn’t think it was fair to make anyone else live a weird double life, I then met someone else who I connected with deeply enough to disregard my morals for and bare my soul to, and then establish _another_ completely secret and complex relationship with?”

“Okay, when you say it like that it sounds like a dumb question.” He huffed. “But yeah, that’s what I’m asking.”

“No, I haven’t dated anyone else.” Steve chuckled. “Despite Nat’s best efforts to set me up with everyone she interacts with.”

“Oh, okay. It’s just there was this whole thing about you and Sharon Carter secretly dating a while ago so I just wondered.”

“Sharon as in Peggy’s niece?” He asked, grimacing when Bucky nodded. “Why would I… That’s fucking creepy. Peggy’s _niece_? Do they think Clint’s sleeping with his own brother too?”

“Clint has a brother?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes he just drops these random personal facts about himself. It’s hard to tell what’s true and what’s just been made up to fit the situation he’s in.” Steve mumbled, shaking his head and muttering to himself. “Peggy’s niece? Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, I kinda figured it was bullshit. The same people were convinced you and Nat were a thing while we were together.”

Steve nodded, frowning to himself. “I don’t know what they get out of it.” He sighed. “But no, no other secret relationships.”

Bucky hadn’t really expected a different answer from him, but he still felt a strange sense of relief wash over him when Steve confirmed it. Relief about what? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like he would have cared if Steve had been with anyone else. He’d only just gotten out a relationship of his own, he’d just be a hypocrite if he got upset about Steve seeing someone else.

But, as much as it pained him to admit, what he’d had with Steve had been special. He got to see a side of Steve that most of the world didn’t know about. Hell, he wasn’t even sure anybody, even the other Avengers, got to see a lot of what he saw. That Steve was his. Even with the way everything ended, that was still his, and if anybody else got to see that side, it wouldn’t be his anymore. Maybe that was selfish of him, but it wasn’t like Steve didn’t have a part of him to himself either. He wondered if Steve even knew that. Knew that he’d seen more of the real Bucky than most people ever did. Did he even realise how different he was to all his other boyfriends? Did he think what they’d had was no different to what he’d had with Chris… or any of the guys he’d been with before? Did he have any idea how special he’d been? Bucky hoped not. It would only be worse if he’d known, and still left despite that.

He realised Steve was staring at him, and that he’d been staring back for God knows how long. Blinking, he sat upright and chewed on his lip, waiting for Steve to inevitably ask if he was okay.

“Are you okay?”

 _There we go_.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He mumbled. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Are you my therapist now?”

Steve shrugged, slumping back against the couch. “No, but you do this thing where you just suddenly go silent and I can never tell if I’ve upset you.”

“You haven’t upset me.” Bucky assured him.

“Okay, good. I’ve been tryin’a cheer you up all day.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Huffing out a laugh, Steve shook his head. “I haven’t done a great job of it.”

“Yeah you have.” Bucky said, smiling when Steve perked up like an excited puppy. “I feel better.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It was impossible for Bucky not to grin at Steve’s face lighting up. He looked so proud of himself, it was kind of adorable. Well, it was more than kind of adorable, it was really fucking adorable. The oven timer went off behind them and Bucky waited for Steve to get it, but after 30 seconds it became obvious that he was too busy being pleased with himself to notice.

“Stevie,” He said slowly, nudging his arm, “Your pie.”

Steve blinked at him, flinching when he finally registered the beeping noise. “Oh shit. Sorry, doll.” He said quickly, getting to his feet and rushing back to the kitchen.

His body reacted to Steve’s words before his brain had even processed them, and by the time he’d registered what Steve had called him he was already blushing. Steve, on the other hand, didn’t even seem remotely aware of what he’d just said. He whistled cheerfully to himself, setting the pie down on the counter and giving him a carefree smile when he saw Bucky looking over at him. Bucky smiled back, unsure of whether to mention it. Part of him saw an opportunity for revenge. After three days of Steve’s relentless mocking over his slip up, he now had a chance to flip the script. But on the other hand, things had been so nice today. They’d actually been getting along, and now he didn’t want to ruin it. Plus he’d be embarrassing himself equally if he brought it up. He could still feel how hot and flushed, and if Steve knew what had caused it he’d probably make fun of him even more than last time. So instead he stayed quiet, sitting on the couch with his hands in his lap and listening to Steve shuffling about behind him.

Why did it have to be _that_ name anyway. He could have handled any other stupid name, but no, Steve had to call him _that_ and now he felt like a flustered schoolboy. There was something about being called “doll” that did things to him, maybe because there just weren’t many people around who used it anymore. He knew Steve felt the same way about it, though, because in his three days of teasing and relentless pet names, he’d never once used that one. That one wasn’t a joke, which made him even more certain that Steve hadn’t even realised he’d said it.

Already he wanted to hear it again. Wanted things to go back to before. For Steve to come back over with some apple pie, wrap him up in his arms and kiss his forehead. _“Here you go, doll.”_ He’d whisper, _“This’ll cheer you up.”_

“You’re doing it again.” Steve mumbled, pulling Bucky out of his daydream. “The quiet thing.”

Bucky shook his head, trying to reset his brain and return to snarky, slightly cold normality.

“Do I have to make a noise constantly so you don’t worry about me?”

“No. It’s not the silence itself… I don’t know, you just have this aura sometimes and I can tell you’re overthinking something.”

“I’m always overthinking.” He pointed out. “Should’a seen what I was like before I got the meds.”

Steve nodded solemnly, bringing two plates of pie back over and handing one to Bucky. “I’m glad I didn’t see that.”

“Yeah, I was a mess. Nobody would wanna be around that.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Steve said, shaking his head. “I just mean… I’ve seen your anxiety get bad a few times even with the meds, and I never knew what to do. I didn’t know how to help you and I hated it. I could see how scared and upset you were and I just had to sit there and let that happen to you because there was nothing else I could do. I don’t know if I could handle it if it were like that all the time.”

“That’s not true.” Bucky mumbled around a mouthful of pie. “You didn’t do nothing, you were good. Handled it better than most people do anyway.”

“Hmm. I still feel like I didn’t do a lot though.”

“Maybe not, but I kinda prefer that. Most people start fussing over me and it just freaks me out even more.” He shrugged. “I think I’m getting better though.”

“You definitely are.” Steve nodded. “I must’ve put you through more stress in the last two weeks than you’ve been through in the whole year, but you still haven’t had a panic attack. Not a full blown when anyway.”

“Kinda makes me think I’m overdue one, though.”

“Well, if it happens, I promise to do fuck all.”

Bucky snorted and Steve grinned at him, settling back on the couch. “Or I’ll just make you another pie” He added.

“Now you’re making me _want_ to have a breakdown.” Bucky smirked. “In fact, I’m starting to feel kinda anxious right now, I guess you’ll have to make more pie.”

Chuckling, Steve shook his head and they fell silent, eating quietly and sniggering whenever they caught each other’s eye. It was nice, but a comfortable nice. Not the kind of nice that made Bucky question his feelings, or is morals, or everything he’d thought he knew for certain. Just comfortably nice. And it stayed comfortably nice… Until the Sink Incident.

The Sink Incident, as Bucky had chosen to call it, happened two days later. It had been a relatively uneventful day, he’d been at work until late in the afternoon, and they’d spent the rest of the time watching Netflix. Bucky was determined to use their time together to catch Steve up on as much as he could.

“What do you mean you don’t know what Stranger Things is? You don’t live in the dark ages anymore, Steve.”

“My job involves fighting robots and aliens, I don’t exactly get a lot of free time.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

They got halfway through the first season and then decided to pause to order pizza. It took almost thirty minutes to order because Steve was an asshole who was incapable of ever making a decision. Once the pizza was ordered, Bucky came out with his best decision of the week.

“Should we have wine? I have some terrible cheap wine in the kitchen.”

“You say that like you’re proud of it.” Steve chuckled.

“I am proud of it. It cost me $5. That’s smart shopping.” He bragged. “It kinda tastes like vinegar but hey, what can you expect from $5 wine? You want some?”

“Sure, I’ll have a glass of your finest $5 wine.”

Bucky grinned and hopped to his feet, heading over to the kitchen and grabbing some glasses. It must have been a long time since he’d used his wine glasses, based on the fact that a layer of dust had gathered on them, and one of them had an actual cobweb in it. Shaking his head at himself, he turned to the sink to wash them.

“Hey, Stevie?” He called as he dried the glasses off and turned back around. “Can you grab- oh.”

He obviously hadn’t been paying attention when he was washing the glasses, because somehow Steve had managed to walk right up behind him without him noticing. As a consequence, he now found himself face to face with Steve with absolutely no warning, so close to him that their chests were almost touching.

“Uh… Hi.” He said slowly.

Steve’s face was so close to his that he wasn’t sure where to look. Looking into his eyes felt way too intense, but looking down wasn’t much better. Steve looked equally shocked and flustered, and obviously hadn’t counted on Bucky turning around at that exact moment.

Out of nowhere, Bucky felt the urge to kiss him. It would be so easy. He was right there. He found himself wondering what would happen if he did. Would he push him away, completely outraged and horrified? Probably. Or would he lean into it? Maybe. Maybe he was thinking the exact same thing.

“Hi.” Steve said after a few seconds, his eyes darting across Bucky’s face.  “Were you… uh… what were you gonna ask me?”

Bucky frowned, his mind completely distracted. “I don’t… I can’t remember.” He mumbled. He wanted to look away from him, try to clear his head, but there was nowhere else for him to look. “Did you want something?” He asked, realising that Steve must have crept into the kitchen for a reason.

“Yeah.”

“What was it?”

“I can’t remember either.” Steve admitted. “I was gonna get something and I just… I don’t know, it’s gone.”

They both stood there, staring at each other with an unavoidable intensity. Bucky’s heart was beating so hard he was sure Steve could probably feel it. His throat felt dry and scratchy, and he could barely string a legible thought together.

“Oh!” Steve said suddenly, startling him. “I was gonna get plates.”

“Oh, right. That’s what I was gonna ask you to get.” Bucky said as his brain finally switched into gear. “I’ll just, uh… get out of your way.”

The plates were in the cabinet behind him, so he took a step to the side, but Steve stepped at the same time, and they ended up in exactly the same position a few inches to the left.

“Shit, I was gonna just go around you.” Steve mumbled.

“I literally just said I was gonna move.”

They both stared at each other for a few seconds. Bucky took a step back to the right, and Steve stepped with him at the same time.

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky exclaimed.

If it weren’t for the blush that was deepening on Steve’s face with every second, Bucky would have sworn he was doing this on purpose.

“Right, okay uh…” Steve said slowly. “I’m just gonna…”

He reached out and put his hands on Bucky’s hips with the lightest, most tentative of touches, spinning them around so that his back was to the counter. Bucky was free to go wherever he pleased now, no longer trapped against the sink by Steve, but he found himself frozen on the spot, still staring dumbly up at him.

“Problem solved.” Steve said quietly, looking slightly proud of himself but mostly still flustered.

“Yeah…” Bucky mumbled. “You wanna let go of my waist now?”

Steve ripped his hands back like he’d been burned, his face turning impossibly redder. They continued to stare at each other and Bucky opened his mouth to say something when, as if the Gods themselves had grown tired of the never-ending awkward tension, the doorbell rang.

“I should get that.” Bucky said quietly, taking a step back, setting the glasses down on the counter, and scurrying away as quickly as he possibly could. Once he was through the front door, into the safety of the stairwell, the tension started to fall away just slightly. His heart rate started to return to normal and he started regaining his ability to think straight, which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because his thoughts were no longer just an incomprehensible string of nonsense, but a curse because he could now actually taken in whatever the fuck that was that just happened.

He wasn’t even that concerned about his own reaction. After all, who _wouldn’t_ get a little flustered when Captain America is that close to you? What was bothering him was Steve’s reaction. Bucky wasn’t going to stand there and pretend that he hadn’t started to become aware of some lingering feelings over the past couple of weeks, but until now he’d had no reason to think that Steve had been dealing with the same issue.  

He couldn’t help but laugh when he saw the pizza guy at the door, staggering under the weight of enough pizza to feed one super soldier and one regular guy with the appetite of a super soldier.

“Thanks.” Bucky said as he took the stack boxes. “I’m having a party.”

“That’s what they all say, man.” The delivery guy shrugged, taking the money Bucky handed him. “I’m not here to judge. Have a good night.”

When Bucky got back to the apartment Steve had set plates out on the coffee table, along with two glasses of wine and Bucky’s laptop ready to continue their Netflix marathon.

“Worst dinner date ever.” Bucky remarked, stacking the boxes on the floor in front of the couch and sitting down next to him.

In reality, this was pretty reminiscent of their actual dates. They’d never been able to go out anywhere, so all their dates had consisted of movies or dinner in Bucky’s sitting room. Not that he’d ever minded that.

Steve chuckled, grabbing one of the pizza boxes and opening it on his lap.

“Okay,” He said after a few seconds, looking up at him hesitantly. “I have to tell you something.”

Bucky tensed, his mind racing with the possibilities of what Steve might say.

“I got a phone call earlier, from Natasha.”

He frowned. “A phone call? On your government issued phone that you can’t use under any circumstances?”

“No, on the burner.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “I’ve given up questioning how she does these things. But anyway, she told me Stark is planning a press conference next week to clear my name. So I should be out of your hair soon.”

“Oh.” Bucky said quietly. “Okay.”

“You don’t sound as happy about that as I thought you’d be.”

“No, I’m just…”

He trailed off, unsure how to word his feelings. He wasn’t really sure _how_ he felt about that. It would be nice not having the constant tension, not having to constantly try and figure out what Steve was thinking or what _he_ was thinking, but at the same time… He’d become so aware of how much he’d missed Steve before. If he left now… he’d just miss him even more.

“How come he’s not doing this press conference until next week?” He asked, trying to move the subject away from his feelings.

“Don’t think he’s in much of a hurry. She didn’t say it explicitly but I kinda get the impression he’s only doing this because everyone else is collectively forcing him to.” Steve chuckled. “Can’t exactly blame him, I mean I _did_ kick the crap outta him. It’s weird, I’ve never noticed it when I’m fighting alongside him. But actually fighting him made me realise that he’s… really bad at fighting.”  

Bucky snorted, shaking his head. “You were pretty beat up when you showed up here.”

“Yeah, but at least I was walking. I just got up and left once he’d given up. As far as I know he just laid there for hours before anyone saw him leave. I wasn’t even _trying_ that hard. If anything I was holding back.”

“If you’re trying to impress me it’s not gonna work.”

“I’m not trying to impress you, I’m just saying.” Steve mumbled. “But anyway, my point is, I should only be here another week.”

“A Hanukkah miracle.”

“Bucky, it’s the middle of March.”

“Well if you knew the name of more than one Jewish holiday my options would be more open, but you don’t so here we are.” He shrugged. “You want me to throw you a leaving party? Obviously there won’t be any guests since it’s still 100% illegal for you to be here, but Star can come. I can get a cake.”

“Sure.” Steve smirked. “I’ll try and think of some really quiet party games.”

“Sleeping lions all night, baby. It’s gonna be wild.”

Steve chuckled and they turned their attention back to the show, staying relatively silent aside from Steve’s regular questions about the plot, to which Bucky had to constantly tell him to just _fucking watch it._ He still had a hundred more questions once they’d finished the season, as if Bucky was the writer and somehow held the answers to all his deep meta questions. Regardless, he still attempted to answer some of them, and they ended up sitting up until almost 3am having a deep and focused discussion about the upside-down.

“And that’s why I think it’s unrealistic that, in this _whole_ parallel dimension, there’s only one kind of monster.” Steve said, taking a swig of wine directly from the bottle and grimacing. “This is fucking disgusting, Buck. Why do you have three bottles of it?”

“Because it costs $5 and nurse wages are a joke.” Bucky slurred, taking the bottle from Steve and sipping the vile drink. “Why are you…? Why are you even drinking it? You can’t even get drug… Drunk.”

“Because if I wasn’t drinking it, you’d drink it all yourself.”

“I sure would.” He grinned, giggling and sliding down on the couch.

“What are you laughing at?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know.” He sniggered. “Carry on with your upside-down theory.”

“I already finished it.”

“Oh. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“I know, I noticed.” Steve smirked, taking the bottle back and setting it down on the coffee table. “It’s late. You should go to bed.”

Bucky nodded and attempted to get up, but as soon as he lifted his head the whole room started spinning and he quickly flopped back down again.

“Can’t move.” He said, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. “I’ll sleep here.”

“I can carry you to bed if you want.”

“No.”

“Okay.” Steve said quietly, shifting in his seat. “You want me to sleep somewhere else? I can go grab your duvet and sleep on the floor.”

Bucky chewed his lip thoughtfully. Logically, he knew he should tell Steve to sleep somewhere else, but the wine was clouding his judgement a little… and Steve was so warm.  

“You’re comfier than the couch.” He mumbled, grunting when Steve moved to lie down. He settled on top of him and sighed deeply. “Didn’t turn the lights off.”

“Hmm.” Steve said thoughtfully. “If I throw this coaster I _might_ be able to hit the light switch.”

“Bet you can’t.”

Steve took that challenge, stretching out to grab the coaster and flinging it across the room. Whether it was through skill or sheer dumb luck, the lights went out and Steve puffed his chest out proudly. The curtains were open, and the street lights outside lit up the room enough for Bucky to make out Steve’s grinning face looking up at him.

“What do I win?” He asked smugly.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky shrugged on top of him. “I dunno.” He mumbled sleepily. “What do you want?”

Steve stared up at him for a moment before smiling to himself, reaching up and guiding Bucky’s head down until he was resting on his chest. “I want you to go to sleep.”

“Hmm… I can do that.”

He snuggled against him, sighing happily when Steve wrapped his arms around him. It was nice. He felt warm, and safe, and better than he’d felt in a long time. He wanted to put a lot of that down to the drunken fog, but deep down he knew that wasn’t entirely to blame. Steve had gone quiet and for a moment he thought he’d already fallen asleep, but then he spoke again.

“D’you remember that time when you got the flu, and you called me in the middle of a meeting to ask me to come over. And you spent the whole week sleeping on me.”

“Uh huh.”

“That was cute.”

Bucky frowned, glancing up at him. “No it wasn’t, I threw up on you. Twice.”

“Still.” Steve shrugged. “It was cute.”

“You’re weird.” He mumbled, closing his eyes. “Why are you talking about this?”

Steve shrugged again. “I don’t know. I just remembered it.”

“Hmm. I’m going to sleep. Night.”

“Night. Sweet dreams.”

He slept better than he had in a long time that night, until the sun streaming in through the window woke him up the next morning, and he found himself tangled up in a mess of limbs and blankets. Steve was still asleep, snoring quietly and squirming restlessly underneath him. Except he wasn’t really underneath him anymore. At some point during the night they must have rolled over, and now Bucky was trapped against the back of the couch, his arm wedged underneath Steve’s neck and one of Steve’s legs wrapped around his, meaning there was no way for him to get off the couch without waking him up. He wouldn’t have minded so much, except now he was stuck with Steve’s face a couple of inches away from his, so close that he could feel his breath as he snored, with no way of putting any space between them. He lay there for a while, trying really hard not to stare at him. It should be easy, Steve wasn’t exactly at his most attractive like this. With his hair tangled and hanging in his face, drooling onto his arm and huffing morning breath into Bucky’s face. But despite that Bucky still found himself getting hypnotised. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there staring at him, but after a while his arm started to go dead, and he had no choice but to pull it out from under Steve’s head. For a moment he thought he’d gotten away with it, but seconds later Steve scrunched his face up, opening his eyes and peering up at him with sleepy, bright blue eyes.

“Hi.” He croaked, smiling when he saw him.

“Hi.” Bucky whispered back. “Sorry, I tried not to wake you up.”

“S’okay. Was having the lamest dream ever.” Steve mumbled. “I was working some office job and I had to wear a suit all the time. You were in it. You were the receptionist.”

“Glad you think so highly of me, even in your dreams.”

“Hey, a receptionist is an important job. Without you the whole business would’a fallen apart.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I guess I should be glad I wasn’t the office floozy, huh?”

“Never said you weren’t.”

“Excuse me?”

Steve snorted and Bucky shoved him, almost knocking him off the couch.

“I’m kidding!” Steve laughed, sitting upright. “You were an ordinary receptionist. Like I said, it was a lame dream.” He mumbled. “Did you sleep okay?”

He wasn’t about to admit to Steve that it was one of the best night’s sleep he’d had in a while, so he just nodded, scrambling away from him to the other side of the couch. Now that he’d had a chance to wake up, he’d become a little more aware of the dull ache in his head from all the wine last night. Groaning, he massaged his temples, ignoring Steve’s chuckle.

“Hungover?” He asked.

“I’ll live.” Bucky mumbled.

“You want me to make some breakfast?”

“Mm… I want pancakes.”

“Coming up.”

Steve got to his feet, leaving Bucky enough space to lie back down on the couch, hugging a pillow to his chest and closing his eyes again. He hadn’t intended to go back to sleep, but the next thing he knew Steve was frantically shaking him awake.

“Buck? Wake up. There’s someone at the door.”

“Nngh.” Bucky grumbled, cracking one eye open and looking up at him. “You get it.”

“You know I’m still America’s Most Wanted, right?”

“Ugh, fine.”

Hauling himself off the couch, he shuffled reluctantly across the room while Steve slipped into his bedroom out of sight. He waited until the door closed and Steve was safely hidden before swinging the door open and greeting the stranger on the other side. His blood ran cold when he saw the police badge being thrust in his face, and for a second he thought he might pass out.

“Good morning. Detective Cindy White, I take it you’re James?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”

Bucky stared at her blankly for a couple of seconds, swallowing the lump in his throat and nodding.

“Uh… sure. Did… did something happen?” He asked, painfully aware of how nervous he sounded.

“Well,” She said, producing a notebook from her back pocket. “We’ve had a couple of recent calls from someone concerned about your welfare, guy named Chris?”

It took Bucky a second to even register who she was talking about, and for a moment the nerves faded, replaced by confusion. “Chris as in my ex?”

“That’s what he told us.” She nodded. “I’ll be honest with you, we get a lot of desperate calls from people claiming that their ex was somehow manipulated into dumping them and nine and a half times out of ten it’s nothing, but I gotta check it out just for our records. Is it okay if I come in?”

“Why do you need to come in?” He asked, way more abruptly than any normal, innocent person with nothing to hide would have asked. “Uh, I mean… Can we not just talk out here?”

Cindy raised an eyebrow at him and he cursed himself.

“Um…” She said slowly. “I just have to give everything the once over. Nothing major.”

“Right… sure.” He nodded, stepping reluctantly aside and letting her in.

He hated talking to cops. He always felt like he was guilty of some crime even when he wasn’t, but it was definitely safe to say that this whole situation would have been a lot easier were it not for the _incredibly recognisable_ wanted fugitive currently hiding behind his bedroom door, just a few meters from where this police officer was currently standing. He just prayed Steve had overheard some of their conversation and had already found a decent hiding place. There was no way for him to get out of that room except through the window, and they were too many stories up for Steve to jump without making an incredibly noticeable crash landing.

“Okay,” Cindy said, flipping open her notebook. “I’m gonna read you the account your boyfriend-”

“Ex.” Bucky corrected.

“Right. I’m gonna read your ex’s account of your situation, and you just tell me how much of this you agree with.”

Bucky nodded and she began.

“So according to your boy- according to your _ex_ , a man you were previously romantically involved with arrived at your apartment on March 10th.”

“Yeah, that happened.”

“And he claims this man then threatened you, and forced you to let him stay.”

“I… I let him stay here. He didn’t force me.”

“Mmkay.” She said flatly, glancing back down at her notebook.

“He didn’t force me to do anything.” Bucky repeated firmly.

“So you just let this guy move in? No questions asked?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“It’s just that I spoke to some of the residents in this block, and a couple told me they heard shouting, coming from your apartment, at around 3am on March 10th.”

Bucky swallowed again, folding his arms and chewing on his lip nervously. “I mean… I was… we had kind of a rough break up, okay? I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see him.”

“But you’re saying he didn’t threaten you, or do anything to manipulate you into letting him in?”

“No. I’m not sure he wanted to be here anymore than I wanted him here, I was his last resort.”

She started scribbling something in her notebook and he took a couple of breaths. _Okay_. He told himself. _You can do this. You haven’t lied to her. Everything’s fine._

“Is he still staying here?”

 _Shit_.

“Uh… No. He left a couple of days ago.” He said hesitantly. “I don’t know where he is now.”

“So the blankets on the couch are just…”

“I slept there last night. Too much wine.”

_Okay, back into truth territory._

She nodded, scribbling more onto her notebook. “And you ending your relationship had nothing to do with this guy?”

“No. I just didn’t like him.”

“And this guy never did anything to hurt or manipulate you while he was here?”

“I mean, definitely not intentionally.” Bucky smirked, silently hoping Steve was listening now. “He’s an asshole, but he can’t help that.”

“Okay, and-”

She was cut off by a loud thump coming from the bedroom. Bucky’s heart was beating so fast he swore his chest was about to burst open.

“Is there someone else here?”

“No!” He blurted out. “I uh… I have a cat. He probably got himself locked in there.”

“You wanna let him out then?”

Bucky nodded, walking as slowly as was physically possible towards his bedroom door, trying to give Steve as much time as possible to get out of sight. He knew it was impossible. He only had a tiny closet, there was no space under the bed, no furniture to hide behind. Steve only had two feasible options in there. He could hide under the duvet and hope the cop didn’t notice the human shaped lump on the bed, or he could just stand there in plain sight and not even make an effort to hide. Bucky had no idea what kind of punishment came with harbouring Captain America in his house. Jail? Maybe. Undoubtedly he’d be brought in for questioning, but by who? The police? The FBI? The avengers? At least one small comfort was that nobody would have any reason to torture him. He’d break immediately under the pressure. He’d definitely end up getting Steve arrested, maybe worse. The thought of Steve being taken away, of anything happening to him, felt like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t lose him again. Not now.

He reached the door and twisted the handle slowly, glancing behind him at the detective. Poor girl, she probably expected a quiet day. No idea a routine check in was about to turn into the biggest case of her career. The door swung open and Star trotted out, and Bucky was left staring into the empty bedroom, completely unable to comprehend what he was looking at.

“Okay, well. I think I’m done here.” Cindy said, crouching to scratch Star’s ears.

Bucky stared at her for a moment, nodding slowly. “I uh… I’m sorry my ex wasted your time like that.”

“Not a problem, it happens a lot. Thanks for your time, James.”

He watched as she showed herself out, waiting until he was certain she was out of the hallway before turning back towards his bedroom. He looked behind the door, under the bed, in the closet. He knew there was no way for Steve to fit in any of those places, but it didn’t stop him checking once, and then a second time. He checked behind the curtains, even under the duvet in case Steve had somehow managed to flatten himself completely on the mattress. The window was open, but when Bucky looked out he couldn’t see any sign Steve had jumped, nor was he clinging to the side of the building like Spiderman. He even stole one cautious glance at the ceiling in case Steve had somehow defied the very laws of gravity. Bucky was a logical man, a man of science, but he was pretty damn close to believing that Steve had actually vanished into thin air. That was, until he heard the crash of the balcony doors swinging open in the next room.

He bolted back out into the sitting room, and sure enough there was Steve, panting and rubbing his hands together.

“Your ex sure is something, huh?” He said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place.

“Referring to yourself?”

“I… I honestly can’t tell if you’re complimenting or insulting me.”  

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure either, he didn’t know what he was thinking, or feeling. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath and tried to keep his composure.

“Do you wanna explain to me,” He said slowly, “What the fuck just happened?”

“Sure.” Steve nodded, taking a step towards him and putting a hand hesitantly on Bucky’s shoulder. “But do you wanna sit down first? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

He did feel dizzy, and when Steve started guiding him over to the couch, he was worried his legs might give out underneath him. They made it to the couch, but Bucky could already feel the panic and anxiety in his chest, making it harder to breath or talk. He continued clinging to Steve’s arm even after they’d sat down, staring at the blank TV screen across the room to try and focus his mind.

“I’m freaking out.” He said quietly.

“I know, it’s okay. You want me to leave you alone?”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, squeezing his arm tighter. “Stay here.”

Steve nodded, wrapping his arm loosely around him.

“Was it the cop?” He asked. “They usually freak you out.”

“I don’t know. I feel like so much just happened in the last ten minutes and I didn’t get a chance to process any of it and now it’s just…” He trailed off, unable to find a word to describe what was going on in his head. “I hate talking to cops anyway but then I had to _lie_ to a cop and I feel like it was really obvious that I was lying so I’m freaking out about that and whether she’s gonna send a fucking squadron down here or something now and then I also thought you were gonna get caught and I’m still freaking out about that even though you didn’t and then I thought you were _gone_ and I just… I don’t know… it’s a lot. I wanna stop thinking but I can’t and I hate it.” He muttered, hiding his face in his hands and took a shaky breath. Or at least he tried to, his chest felt so tight he could barely get any air into his lungs.

“You wanna know how I got out of your room? Then you can stop thinking about that part.”

Bucky nodded, looking up at him curiously.

“Okay, it was pretty easy to be honest.” Steve said, a little smugly. “My first plan was to grab your duvet and some stuff from your wardrobe to make a pile on top of me, so she’d just think you were a slob instead of a criminal harbourer.”

“That’s a terrible plan.”

“I know, but I didn’t realise Star was sleeping in your bed, so when I tried to grab the duvet I woke him up, that’s what the noise was. I heard you coming over so I panicked and climbed out the window. When you opened the door I was hanging on to the ledge outside. Then when she left I knew I had to get back inside fast before she came outside and saw me, there was no time to try and climb back through the window so I swung onto the balcony and came in through the doors.”

Bucky attempted a laugh, but it came out as just a choked noise.

“They’ll make a spy outta you yet.” He said, smirking when Steve frowned at him.

“Yeah.” Steve said flatly. “’Cause I was _so_ stealthy.”

“Still, if the whole superhero thing doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have your side career in escapology.”

Steve grinned and Bucky snuggled closer to him, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Do you think she’ll come back?” He asked, his mind immediately switching to another anxiety. “She knew I was lying.”

“She only thinks you’re lying about a random ex staying here. Not sure that’s cause for much concern.”

“Still.” Bucky mumbled. “She knew I was lying. What if she wants to follow up on it more and becomes obsessed by the case and ends up finding out about you and then we both get arrested and we never see each other again and-”

“Buck, look at me.” Steve said, tilting his chin up gently to face him. “I’m not gonna let you get in trouble for any of this, okay? If anybody finds out I’m here I’ll tell them I blackmailed you or something. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

Bucky shook his head frantically. “You can’t do that.” He said. “I’d feel even worse.”

“You’d get over it. You wouldn’t get over prison.” Steve told him. “And I wouldn’t get over anything like that happening to you because of me.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to suck it up, because nobody’s ever gonna believe that you’d blackmail anyone. What are you even gonna blackmail me with?”

“I have… a few things.” Steve admitted. “The sketchbook for a start.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “ _The_ sketchbook? You still have that?”

“Obviously I still have it. What else was I gonna do with it? Throw it in the garbage for anyone to stumble upon?”

“Could’a burned it.”

“I can’t _burn_ a sketchbook!” Steve exclaimed, staring at him with a horrified expression. “I don’t care how incriminating it could potentially be, I’m not gonna _burn_ a sketchbook.”

“So you just left it laying around in your apartment? What if they searched it after you disappeared? How are you gonna explain to all of your superhero friends why you have an _incredibly_ detailed sketch of a guy they’ve never met, butt ass naked and shoving a giant-"

“Nobody’s gonna find it.” Steve interrupted. “It’s not in my apartment. I have a storage unit out of town.”

“Specifically for your dirty drawings?”

“No! There’s other stuff in there.” He insisted, his face turning red. “I haven’t looked at it, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t sneak out in the dead of night to go and flip through it. I forgot I even had it until just now.”

Bucky smirked at him. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. The idea of Steve flicking through a book of drawings of him, completely consumed by lust, wasn’t as horrifying to him as it would have been a few weeks ago.

“Why do I always end up talking about the worst possible things when I’m trying to cheer you up?” Steve mumbled. “I wanted to make you feel _safe_ , not convince you that I’m a predator.”

“I don’t think that.” Bucky chuckled. “And I always feel safe when you’re here. You don’t have to make an effort.”

Steve looked taken aback by that, staring at him for a moment. “I thought you hated me being here.”

“I do, but not because you make me feel bad. I hate it because it just keeps reminding me how much I like having you around, and how much you meant to me.” He admitted. “And then that cop showed up and I… I thought I was gonna lose you again and it scared the hell out of me.”

He regretted saying it as soon as the words left his mouth and he turned away with him, cringing as he felt Steve’s gaze burning into the back of his head. Everything had been going fine. Steve had even _admitted_ he didn’t think Bucky liked him, and he’d just fucking ruined it. He felt like a complete idiot. Like some desperate, pathetic thing, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it. The more he wanted Steve to wrap his arms around him and kiss him all over and whisper to him about how he was never going to leave him by himself. He just wanted his Steve back. He wanted things to go back to normal.

“Bucky,” Steve said hesitantly, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and turning him back around. “Bucky, I-”

“I know I don’t mean anything to you, you don’t have to say it to my face.”

“What? You mean everything to me!” Steve exclaimed, looking shocked by what he’d said. “I just… I thought you… You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Buck. I’ve thought about you every day this last year and wished I could see you again but I knew I couldn’t, and now I _can_ see you again it’s been like some kind of ridiculous torture because I couldn’t even tell you how much I missed you and how much I care about you.”

“I thought you only came here because you had nowhere else to go.”

“Did it never occur to you that I would have just gone nowhere if I hadn’t wanted to see you?” Steve said quietly. “Honestly… I really didn’t expect you to let me stay here. But I thought… at least if I tried I’d still get to see your face again before everything went to shit.”  

Bucky was quiet for a moment, chewing on his lip while his brain went wild, trying to process everything. After a while he looked up again, taking a shaky breath.

“I’m glad you came.” He admitted. “I missed you, and your stupid face.”

Steve smiled at him, looking at him with uncertain eyes.

“Would it be completely out of line if I kissed you?”

He thought for a moment, considering all his options. He could just say no. Try to forget this whole thing ever happened, but something in him knew he’d regret that. All he wanted was a sense of normality, and deep down, he knew that this was his normality. His normality was never going to be normal.

He nodded and then the next thing he knew Steve was kissing him, and it felt perfect. It felt like home. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, reaching up and tangling his fingers in his hair to keep him as close as possible. He’d spent the last year thinking he’d never get this chance again. Seeing pictures of Steve’s face plastered all over the TV, all over the internet, thinking he’d never get the chance to kiss him again, and now he was, and it was even better than he remembered.

Steve broke the kiss, moving to kiss his cheek, along his jaw, whispering against his skin as he kissed him.

“Missed you so much.” He said as he moved down to kiss his neck. “Never gonna leave you again.”

_Again._

That hit him like a ton of bricks, and before he even knew what he was doing he had shoved Steve away from him, throwing himself off the couch and scrambling across the floor to get as far away from him as possible.

Steve stared at him, bemused and a little dazed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“You left me.” Bucky whispered, his voice shaking as everything completely fell apart in his head. “I can’t… I can’t do this again.”

“That’s not… I’m not gonna leave you, Bucky. I swear.”

“That’s what you said before! You promised me!” He yelled, getting to his feet. “And you didn’t just _leave_ , you _abandoned_ me. Out of nowhere. You knew everything that happened to me and everything I was terrified of and then you abandoned me like none of it meant anything to you. I trusted you with all of it and you abandoned me. How am I supposed to trust you again? After what you did?”

Steve chewed on his lip, avoiding his eyes.

“You can’t.” He said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky stood there, not sure what to do with himself. Part of him wanted to cry, and part of him wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the whole situation was.

“For what it’s worth,” Steve said after a moment. “I never stopped loving you, even when I left. I still do.”

“I love you too, you asshole. I’m never gonna love anyone like I love you, and you fucking ruined it.”

“I know.”

“Just… just fucking stay away from me.” Bucky mumbled, pushing his bedroom door open.

“You want me to leave?”

“We both know you can’t.” He muttered. They both knew that was his way of saying he didn’t want him to leave, and Steve just nodded, watching silently as Bucky shut himself in him room.

He sat on his bed and waited for the tears to come, but they didn’t. He wasn’t even sure if he really felt sad, he just felt empty again. In a way, it was nice to finally admit it. He was never going to get over Steve, not completely, and he was never going to find anybody like him. He was doomed to spend the rest of his life longing for something he could never have. Even when it was offered to him, he couldn’t take it. He was cursed. Steve was his curse.


	5. The Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here!! Thank you so much for sticking with me I'm so sorry this took so long lmao

Two days was, arguably, the worst amount of time for Bucky to spend locked in his bedroom. It was long enough to let everyone in his life know he was a mess, but not quite long enough to break his personal record. Sure, _technically_ he hadn’t been in his bedroom the whole time, but he had avoided any kind of contact with any human, including Steve, which was tough to do when they were both trapped in an apartment with three rooms. Stark’s press conference couldn’t come quick enough, but there was no way Bucky was using up all his allotted holiday time having a mental breakdown. Eventually he was gonna have to come out.

He’d spent the best part of the afternoon working on excuses he could use when Claire inevitably asked where he’d been. Chewing on his pencil, he looked down at the scattered post-it notes on the bed and frowned. “My cat got sick?” Too emotional, she’d want to know details. “ _I_ got sick?” Bucky was _famous_ for complaining to everyone whenever he was sick, she’d see right through that lie immediately. “My car was stolen?” She’d have a fit. “Just tell her the truth?” Absolutely not. He tossed his pencil across the room in frustration and collapsed backwards onto the pillows. Maybe he should just never go back to work? Maybe he should run away? Move back to Shelbyville with his mom and spend the rest of his life making dreamcatchers for her etsy store. It didn’t sound like a terrible idea. He drifted off into a daydream about what his new life might be like, but was quickly cut off by a loud thumping noise outside. The loud thumping was quickly followed by a very timid knock on his bedroom door, and Steve’s voice calling out to him, so quietly he could barely hear him.

“Bucky?”

“Die.” Bucky muttered, not bothering to sit up.

“Buck, seriously. There’s someone at the door.”

Groaning, Bucky sat back upright. “Just wait for them to leave, idiot.”

“She uh… She sounds very insistent.”

“She?”

Behind the door, the thumping came again, followed by a voice that was unmistakably Claire’s.

“I know where you keep your spare key, Barnes. If you don’t open this door then so help me God I will break in.”

_Shit_.

“Buck, she’s opening the door.” Steve said frantically. “Will you please get out here?”

Bucky looked down at himself. Given that he’d been confined to his room for the last two days there hadn’t been much cause to get dressed, or change his clothes. All he had on was an old, sweaty, snack stained shirt (probably Steve’s at that) and two day old underwear. There was no way he was allowing anyone to see him like that.

“I’m not dressed!” He called back. “Give me a second!”

“I don’t care if your entire dick is hanging out, Bucky. Just get out here!”

Outside, he heard the lock rattling, and all thoughts of his appearance went out the window. He yanked the door open and raced out, grabbing Steve by the shoulders and trying to shove him into his bedroom.

“Get in get in get in get i- oh fuck.”

It was too late. The front door flew open and Claire stood in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her.

“Uh…” She started, her eyes darting back and forth between Bucky and Steve. “Hi?”

“I can explain.” Bucky said, slowly withdrawing his hands from Steve’s arms.

“Bucky, why is Captain America is in your apartment?”

“He’s not.”

“He’s standing right there,” Claire said flatly. “In his underwear.”

“Hi.” Steve waved.

“Shut up, idiot.” Bucky hissed, spinning around and finally taking in Steve’s appearance. “And why the _fuck_ are you in your underwear?”

They were dressed almost identically, only Steve’s clothes looked a little cleaner.

“I just woke up!” Steve said defensively. “Am I supposed to sleep in jeans like some kind of psychopath?”

“I bought you sweatpants!” He yelled. “I bought you sweatpants for this exact reason!”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Claire interrupted, marching up and grabbing Steve by the shoulders. “You. Get in there.” She said as she shoved him towards the bedroom, glaring at him until he slunk inside and shut the door.

“Huh.” Bucky mumbled. “Thank you for that.”

“Sit. Down. Now.” She ordered and Bucky gulped, slinking over to the couch obediently and sitting down.

He wrapped himself in Steve’s blanket, trying to avoid Claire’s eyes as she sat down.

“So,” She said calmly, making herself comfortable. “You fucked Captain America, huh?”

“What? No. That’s gross. Why would you even… how _dare_ you? You have the _nerve_ to… to accuse me of… how do I know _you_ didn’t fuck him? I can’t believe-”

“Bucky, you’re just badly quoting parks and rec.”

Bucky shrunk back into the cushions, feeling his face flushing red.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before? I mean, I get why you might not want it to be _public_ knowledge but… you could have told me?”

“I did tell you I was dating a Steve.” Bucky mumbled.

“Oh, and I was supposed to just _assume_ that out of all the Steves in the world, you were dating the one that happened to be _Captain fucking America_?” She yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “Come on, Buck. We’re supposed to tell each other crap like this.”

Sighing, Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “I know, I just… I got kinda into the whole ‘double life’ thing. It was pretty hot.”

Claire nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess I can see that. Besides, I still haven’t told you that I’m sleeping with Luke Cage so really-”

“You’re _what?_ ” Bucky interjected. “Luke… the _bulletproof guy?_ ”

“Yeah, the bulletproof guy.” Claire said, shrugging like it was nothing. “Been going on for a few months now.”

“I… you… what is that _like_?”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, chewing on her lip as if trying to find the right words.

“Intense.” She eventually settled on. “I’d ask what it’s like with a genetically enhanced super soldier, but you’ve already described it to me in graphic detail. Multiple times.”

“Yeah…” Bucky nodded, recalling the numerous conversations he’d had with Claire while he and Steve were together. “In hindsight, without the context of him being a literal superhuman, you must have thought I was dating some kind of sex freak.”

“I always just figured you were exaggerating.” She shrugged. “I mean, I’ve been with some… energetic guys in my time. But _twelve times_ in one-”

“You guys know this room isn’t soundproof, right?” Steve interrupted, his voice muffled from the other side of the bedroom door.

“Quiet, sex freak.” Claire snapped.

Bucky snorted, but the reminder that Steve was in the same building filled him with a sudden discomfort. He feel quiet, and Claire seemed to quickly notice him curling in on himself and leant over to nudge his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go get a coffee or something?” She suggested. “Have you eaten? Let me buy you some lunch.”

“’M not hungry.” Bucky mumbled. It wasn’t exactly the truth. He’d been running on empty for the last two days, surviving on the occasional snack he managed to grab from the kitchen any time Steve was in the bathroom. He just didn’t feel much like eating.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” She said, the use of his full name sending a chill down his spine. “If you don’t come and get something to eat I _will_ call the cops on the convict hiding in your bedroom.”  

He considered, for a moment, whether he even cared any more if Steve was arrested. Stark’s conference was tomorrow. At best he’d only be in jail for the weekend. Still, the weird sense of responsibility tugged at him and he conceded, slumping his shoulders in defeat.

“Okay,” He said, getting to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“Sure. Just as soon as you put some pants on.”

Bucky looked down at himself and blushed, shuffling ashamedly over to the bedroom door and pushing it open. He could feel Steve watching him from where he was sat in the corner of the room as he rifled through his closet for some jeans.

“Not a word.” He warned, refusing to meet his gaze as he clumsily tugged on the first pair of pants he found. “I’m going out. Try not to commit treason while I’m gone.”  

Either Steve had no comeback to offer, or he was being uncharacteristically respectful of what Bucky had told him. Whatever the reason, Steve said nothing in response, so Bucky grabbed his coat and left him sitting there without another word.

He had no idea where Claire intended on taking him for lunch, but apparently they were walking. She linked their arms and led him down the busy street, weaving them in and out of the crowds before making a sharp left turn and dragging him into a small sandwich bar on the corner of the street.

“I came here a couple weeks ago with Rosa,” She recalled as she guided him through the door and towards a vacant table by the back, “The subs are amazing.”

Bucky plonked himself unceremoniously into one of the hard plastic chairs, sitting upright and taking in his surroundings. It was a tiny place, with only about 8 tables in total squashed together in a huddle to fill what little floor space there was. Pressed against the left wall was a sandwich counter with bread piled up and different fillings spread along the bar. From what he could see, there was only one staff member in the whole shop. A lean man with short, vibrant green hair, stood behind the bar with one elbow leant on the countertop. He was scrolling lazily through his phone and looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Also I’m like, 95% sure the guy who works here is gay.” Claire added, following Bucky’s gaze across the room.

“Really, Claire?” Bucky deadpanned. “You think the twink with the green hair _might_ be gay?”

“I do _try_ not to stereotype people, Barnes.” She muttered.

Bucky huffed a laugh. Despite how few people were inside, it was noisy. Between the noise of chatter, the sounds of plates and glasses clinking, and the whir of the ceiling fans above them, Bucky could barely hear himself think. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he needed his thoughts silenced for a while.

“So, what do you want?” Claire asked, grabbing her purse from her bag and getting back to her feet. “The ham and cheese melt is good but I’ve also heard good things about the-”

“Just get me whatever you’re having.” He grumbled, slumping back in his seat.

Claire shrugged and walked over to the counter, leaving him to try and get comfortable. It wasn’t an easy task, the plastic was cold and hard, and seemed to dig into his back no matter what position he sat in. He ended up sat sideways with one knee pulled up against his chest, his foot resting on the arm of the chair, with his other leg stretched out to the side. One girl a few tables across threw him a questioning glance, but he just scowled at her and she quickly averted her gaze.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home.” Claire said flatly when she returned to the table, looking him up and down as she set a tray down next to him. “Are you incapable of sitting like a normal person in public? Or do you do this specifically to embarrass me.”

“You wouldn’t have this problem if we went somewhere with comfortable seating." He shrugged, grabbing blindly for one of the subs on the tray and tearing a bite off with his teeth.

The subs were as good as Claire had promised, and Bucky soon realised he was a lot hungrier than he’d first thought. Fortunately, Claire had predicted this and bought him two, plus a pack of cookies. He slowed down once he reached his third cookie, nibbling on it slowly rather than cramming it into his mouth.

“So,” Claire said when she realised Bucky was finally in a position to speak again. “Are we gonna address the elephant in the room?”

“You mean the fact that green-haired twink is _still_ staring at me?” Bucky asked, glancing over his shoulder again. “You think I should just tell him straight up that he’s not my type?”

“And what is your type, exactly? Superhero vigilantes and wanted criminals?”

“Hey! He wasn’t a criminal or a vigilante when we were dating.”

“Pretty sure he was always a vigilante, Buck.” She said, taking a sip of coffee. “And that’s beside the point anyway. My point is… what even is my point?”

Claire paused for a moment, tapping her nails against the side of her coffee cup as she thought.

“I have about a hundred questions to ask you. I don’t know where to start.” She sighed. “Where did you two even _meet?_ ”

“At work. He broke into the hospital while I was working late.”

“You’re kidding.”

Bucky shook his head and Claire scoffed. “And you claim he _wasn’t_ a criminal when you were dating?” She said, shaking her head. “Okay next question. Why is he hiding in your apartment?”

The quick fire questions continued for a while, some of them more probing than others, and some of them easier to answer than others.

“Yes, I have made him watch Star Wars.” He said, in answer to one of her more mundane questions. “He wasn’t that into it.”

“He’s not into Star Wars, and you continued to date him anyway? Shit, you really were in love, huh?”

“I guess.” Bucky shrugged. “Are you done?”

“Not even close. You don’t get to hide a superhero boyfriend from me and expect me to _not_ have questions.” She said, smirking. “Must be weird though, being stuck in an apartment with your ex. Even under normal circumstances that’d be weird.”

“I don’t know. It was weird at first but then… we were fine? It was kinda nice actually until…”

Bucky trailed off, remembering what had happened the other night and feeling his gut twist with a hundred conflicting emotions. He nibbled at the cookie he was holding and tried to avoid Claire’s questioning stare.

“What happened?” She asked, her eyes boring into him.

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, continuing to nibble at the cookie until there was nothing left but crumbs.

“He kissed me.” He mumbled, so quietly he thought she might not even hear him, but when he looked up it was clear from her horrified face that she’d heard him loud and clear.

“I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking-”

“It wasn’t like that.” He interjected. “He didn’t… I wanted him to.”

Confusion flashed across her eyes for a moment, and then her face softened.

“You wanted him to?” She asked, leaning across the table when he nodded.

“He asked me if it was okay and I said yes because I really _did_ want him to kiss me but then he did it and I just… shoved him off me again and locked myself in my room.” He sighed, hiding his face in his hands. “I don’t even know what I want anymore. “I don’t know if I want to start over with him or if I just want closure or… some other third option that I haven’t even considered about. And part of me just wishes I’d never met him but he was also the best thing to ever happen to me… but also the worst? At the same time? We haven’t even talked about anything that happened since he came back. I have no idea what’s going on in his head, or what he wants, and maybe if I knew what he wants it’d make it easier to know what I want but I just… this whole thing is driving me fucking crazy, Claire.”

“Yeah,” She said slowly. “I’m getting that.”

“Sorry.” He mumbled, looking down at his hands as a wave of embarrassment washed over him. “I just… haven’t really been able to talk about much of this to anyone before. For obvious reasons.”

She nodded, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a sad smile as she reached across the table for his hand.

“You know I’m always here, right?” She said softly, squeezing his flesh hand. “I love you.”

A warmth spread through his chest and he smiled. “Love you too.” He mumbled. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about all this earlier it was just… a lot.”

“I get it.” She shrugged. “You’re welcome to ask me a bunch of invasive questions about my bulletproof boyfriend once we’ve sorted this whole thing out.”

“Not sure how it’s gonna get sorted out.” Buck sighed dejectedly. “Every time I think things are back on track something else goes wrong.”

“Do you love him?” She asked, catching him off-guard with the directness of the question.

He didn’t answer at first. He wasn’t even sure he knew _how_ to answer.

“I…” He started, trying to find the best way to articulate his feelings. “Not like I used to.”

It was true, he did love him. He was well past denying that. But it was a different kind of love. Before, loving Steve was a cosy feeling. It felt like a hot drink on a cold day, or a blanket fresh out of the drier, or the sound of the rain outside while being tucked up in bed. It filled his chest with warmth like a hug, and everything felt quiet and peaceful. But now? Now it tugged at his heart frantically, painfully. It burned in the back of his throat like a disease. Constantly reminding him of how he felt, of what he wanted, and constantly reminding him that he couldn’t have it. Now loving Steve felt like being stuck indoors on a summer’s day, watching through the window as everyone laughed and played, but being unable to go out and join them.

“You need to talk to him.” Claire told him. “Properly.”

“And say what?” He demanded. “’Hey I know you ruined my life but I still love you so maybe we can make this work’?”

Claire narrowed her eyes at him, cursing him out under her breath for being so difficult. “Maybe,” She said pointedly, “You need to talk to him about _why_ he left. Neither of you are gonna be able to move forward with anything until you talk that out.”

He chewed on his lip uncertainly. It was the one question that had been hanging over him ever since Steve had come back. The only thing was, he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer. He’d spent the last year telling himself that Steve was an asshole, that he’d left him because he was no better than his dad or any other deadbeat out there. But deep down, in the very back of his subconscious, he knew that wasn’t true. Steve wasn’t like that, he’d never been like that, and even now, despite how coldly Bucky had been treating him during his stay, he still wasn’t like that. That knowledge only lead down one road, to the only conclusion Bucky’s brain would allow him to reach. The problem wasn’t Steve, it was him. Something he’d done, or said, or _not_ said, had somehow driven away the one good thing in his life. The thought of actually facing up to that, or hearing Steve actually _say it_ made him feel sick to his stomach, but he knew Claire was right. They’d never be able to get anywhere if they didn’t at least acknowledge what happened.

The two of them sat in the sandwich bar for another hour. Bucky bought himself another pack of cookies and grilled Claire a little about her new indestructible booty call. Turns out she’s on a first name basis with half the superheroes in the city, but _he_ was the asshole for not telling her about his _one_ super powered acquaintance. By the time they finally left, it had started raining, and the pair of them had to huddle together beneath Bucky’s coat to avoid getting soaked through as they made their way down the street.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way back to my apartment, Claire.” Bucky said as they walked, swerving to avoid a woman running frantically in the opposite direction. “I’m not a suicide risk.”

“I know that,” She responded, a little out of breath. “I just want to make sure you actually go back there and face your problems. Don’t wanna find out tomorrow that you spent the night in a McDonald’s or some shit.”

“Now you’re just being insulting.” He muttered, although he had to admit, the idea was a lot more appealing than talking to Steve.

They got to his apartment, only moderately drenched. Bucky gave Claire his coat, and his word that he _would_ have a conversation about his feelings. With that, she left, running back down the street with his coat draped over her head, and leaving him to head upstairs to the awaiting emotional turmoil sat in his front room.

He didn’t say anything to Steve when he walked in, simply glancing up to acknowledge him sat on the couch. Steve responded in turn by looking up briefly from his sketchbook, taking in the sight of him in his rain sodden clothes. For a moment Bucky thought he was going to say something, but Steve just went back to sketching, saying nothing.

Bucky squelched across the room into his bedroom, immediately stripping off his wet clothes and dumping them on the floor in a wet heap to be dealt with later. For a brief second, he found himself pondering what the appropriate clothing would be to confront Steve about their relationship. That thought passed as quickly as it had arrived.

“Idiot.” He muttered to himself under his breath, grabbing some clean pyjama pants and a t-shirt from his closet. Steve would have to take him as he was. Although maybe he should at _least_ shave and… _no!_ They were going to _talk_ not go on a fucking date.

He left his bedroom in a worse mood than he’d entered, frustrated with his brain for overthinking every little detail of this. Huffing, he fell back onto the couch, curling up on the opposite side to Steve and staring at the wall. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes before Steve cleared his throat, grabbing Bucky’s attention.

“Do you… do you want me to sit somewhere else?” He asked, a little hesitantly.

He shook his head and Steve sighed, chewing on his lip for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“Just because I’m okay with you sitting there doesn’t mean I want to talk to you.” Bucky snapped.

Okay, good start. They were supposed to be talking and instead he was just being a dick. Nice.

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and looked up at him again. “Sorry.” He said quietly. “I didn’t mean-”

“S’okay, I get it.” Steve mumbled, waving him off. “I wouldn’t wanna talk to me either.”

Bucky didn’t know how to respond to that, so he fell silent, and Steve followed suit. This time the silence was worse. Steve had stopped drawing, and Bucky already missed the sound of his pencil scribbling across the page. He wanted to talk, but he had no idea how. What was he supposed to say? Where did he _start?_ He was on the cusp of giving up and shutting himself in his bedroom when Steve cleared his throat again, more purposefully this time.

“Buck?” He said, setting his sketchbook down when Bucky looked up at him. “I uh… I’m really sorry about the other night. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I… it wasn’t fair on you. None of this was.”

“Do you regret it?”

The question burst out of him before he’d even had time to think. Even Steve looked a little taken aback by his bluntness, and it took a moment before he could think of a response.

“I regret doing it like that, and I regret upsetting you.”

“But you don’t regret kissing me?”

“No.”

Bucky let out a noise like a scared animal and buried his head in his hands.

“Okay, I guess that was the wrong answer.” Steve mumbled.

“There’s not a right answer, Steve.”

“Then what do you want me to say?” He asked. “I can’t go back in time and change what happened and I also can’t stop myself from being ridiculously in love with you, so what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know!” Bucky cried, curling in on himself in defeat. “One minute I can’t stand you and the next minute… I don’t know if I want you to leave and never come back or if I never want you to leave and it just… it feels like you’re doing it on _purpose_. Like this has all been some massive joke to you since you showed up and I’ve just fallen right into it. But then you say shit like that and it makes everything even more confusing and… I can’t tell if you mean it or if you’re just making fun of me.”

Several different emotions flashed across Steve’s face in a matter of seconds. Surprise, confusion, hurt, sadness, and more Bucky couldn’t even decipher.

“Buck, I… I didn’t come here to try and torture you.” He said slowly, seeming to pick each word carefully.

“Then why did you come?” Bucky demanded. “After _everything_ , why would you come here?”

“I never planned on staying.” He admitted, shrinking back in his seat. “I had no idea what was gonna happen that night. Half the country wanted me arrested and the other half wanted me dead and I’m… I’m not exactly _great_ at the whole undercover thing so I figured it wouldn’t be long before one half got what they wanted. But the whole time all I could think about was you and I just- I needed to see you. I don’t know what I thought was gonna happen, I didn’t have a plan or any idea in my head of what I was gonna say to when I got here. I just thought maybe I could… I don’t know… say goodbye? Talk to you? But then I saw you and it’s like I blacked out, and the next thing I knew I was talking about staying, and then you said _yes_ and I just… I feel like I’ve been digging a deeper and deeper hole ever since. I know me staying here is hurting you and it’s _killing me_ but I can’t- I couldn’t bring myself to leave you again. That’s the truth. I can’t leave you again.”

He paused, wiping away tears that had started running down his cheeks, before continuing.

“And if you don’t want me to stay then that’s fine and I… I get it. You can’t ever forgive me for what I did to you and I know that but I just… I need _you_ to be the one to break it off. Because until you tell me to go I’m gonna keep clinging to the hope that I can still get back the one good thing in my life.”  

Bucky’s throat ached as he strained to stop himself from sobbing. None of this was fair. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were, before Steve ruined everything.

“None of this would’a happened if you hadn’t left.” He said, his voice choked.

“I know.” Steve mumbled, wringing his hands anxiously. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand why.” He finally admitted, tears welling up in his eyes. “You keep saying you regret everything but you didn’t- I just don’t understand what I did to make you leave.”

“You didn’t- Bucky.”

Before Bucky could say anything, Steve was lurching forward, wrapping him in the tightest hug he’d felt in a long time. Under different circumstances he would have shoved him away, but instead Bucky clung to him, clutching at his t-shirt like he feared Steve would slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“You didn’t do anything, Buck.” Steve whispered, pulling him impossibly closer and burying his face in his hair. “None of it was your fault. It was me. I was scared and Wanda saw that and-”

“What’s Wanda got to do with anything?” Bucky interrupted, unable to stop himself from honing on the first new bit of information he could get his hands on.

Steve sighed deeply, nuzzling at Bucky’s hair for a little while longer before sitting upright again.

“You uh… You remember I told you about Ultron? And Wanda’s visions?”

“Yeah, and she showed you ‘army stuff’.” Bucky said, making air quotations with his hands. “Aka the vaguest and most obvious bullshit ever.”

“Yeah…” Steve nodded, “It wasn’t army stuff. It was you… dying… because of me.”

He paused, chewing on his lip for a moment and pulling Bucky closer to him again.

“We were here, in your apartment.” He said, recalling it as if it were a real memory rather than a dream. “I’d just come back from a mission, we were talking and then there were gunshots, and the next thing I knew you were in my arms and you weren’t breathing. Someone had followed me and I- I’d lead them straight to you. After that I couldn’t think straight. The only thing that made sense was getting myself as far away from you as possible. I just… decided I’d rather live without you than risk having to live in a world where you didn’t exist at all.”

“You could have told me.” Bucky croaked, tightening his grip on Steve’s shirt. “I- We could have talked about it. You didn’t have to just disappear.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He said. “All I could think about was making you safe again. I was so wrapped up in it I didn’t even think about what I was doing to you and by the time I’d realised what I’d done…” He trailed off, looking up at the ceiling as his eyes welled up again. “By the time I realised, it was too late. I knew you must hate me for leave you like that and I thought going back would just make things worse. Or maybe I was just too scared to go back and face up to what I did.”

“I didn’t hate you.” Bucky whispered. “I just missed you.”

Steve didn’t say anything, wrapping his arms tighter around him and pressing his nose back into his hair, breathing slowly.

“You know,” Bucky said after a few minutes, “I haven’t washed my hair in almost a week.”

“I know.” Steve mumbled. “It’s really gross.”

“Could be an animal living in there by now.”

“You’re disgusting.” He said, pulling his face away with a grimace.

“Yup, and you just basically admitted you don’t wanna live without me. So who’s the real loser here?”

Steve chuckled, sniffling and wiping his nose on the back of his hand. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks blotched and his hair falling in his face, and Bucky was sure he probably looked the same. They were a gross, snotty, sweaty tangle of arms, and it was the most comfortable Bucky had felt since Steve arrived.

“What do we do now?” Steve asked after a while, looking down at him uncertainly. “I don’t wanna put any pressure on you, but we have less than 24 hour to figure this out before Tony calls his press conference and all hell breaks loose again.”

Bucky frowned. It was ironic really. During the time they were together, Bucky would have killed for an opportunity like the one they’d found themselves in. Steve staying in his apartment for _weeks_ was something he could only have dreamt of when their whole relationship was built on stealing moments between his missions. The fact that it was all about to end again just as they were on the verge of getting back on track seemed only fitting.

“Well, shit.” He mumbled, sitting upright. “Guess we better start taking our clothes off and get on with it.”

Steve blinked at him, and Bucky could see the cogs turning in his head as he tried to work out whether he was being serious or not. He waited until Steve started uncertainly reaching for the hem of his t-shirt before finally putting him out of his misery.

“I’m joking, you idiot.” He said flatly, snorting when Steve quickly retrieved his hand. “You gotta at least buy me dinner before I think about sleeping with you again.”

A cocky grin spread across Steve’s face and he leant back, cocking his eyebrow in a way that made a heat rise in Bucky’s stomach and a blush spread across his cheeks.

“Stop it.” He muttered, forcing his eyes to look away.

“I didn’t do anything.” Steve said innocently.

Bucky scowled at him. It was like being back at the hospital all over again, trying to ignore all of Steve’s attempts to brazenly display himself while he got on with stitching up a gash or cleaning a bullet wound. Of course none of them had been obvious attempts at flirting at the time, but looking back it was clear that Steve hadn’t needed to flex his biceps to show Bucky the bruising there.

“You’d be a picture of sex appeal if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve visibly been crying.” Bucky deadpanned, smirking when Steve visibly blushed. “Does this mean you _will_ buy me dinner?”

“It’ll have to wait.” Steve said. “I can’t access my bank account right now without the FBI immediately tracking my exact location and arresting me.”

“You always know how to bring the romance.” Bucky sighed.

“It’s always gonna be like this, Buck.” Steve said quietly, looking down at his hands. “Regardless of where we go from here, and what happens tomorrow. We’re never gonna have a normal life.”

He was getting déjà vu. Steve lecturing him about why he was a bad choice, why Bucky could never live a normal life with him. It felt like their first morning together all over again. The first time, Bucky had no idea what he was signing up for when he’d kissed him. He didn’t know what “not having a normal life” would mean. He knew know. He knew about all the secrecy, constantly feeling like he was having to hide a part of himself from everyone around him. He knew about all the waiting for Steve to come home from his missions, feeling sick and exhausted with worry, his stomach dropping with fear and anxiety every time a news alert popped up, then having to deal with Steve’s foul moods when he finally come home. He knew about the constant fear of discovery, the anxiety, the nightmares, and the guilt when Steve missed a crucial fight to spend time with him.

But he also knew how it felt when Steve did come home. When they’d run into each other’s arms and hold each other for hours, and Bucky felt like he had the whole world in his arms. He knew how it felt having Steve taking care of him when he was in the worst moods, always knowing exactly what he needed. The feeling of safety being with him, the feeling of peace and serenity that came with existing in their own secret bubble, closed off from the outside world and away from the chaos. He knew that for every moment of anxiety, for every moment of anger and doubt, there were a hundred more moments of happiness, and security, and love. He knew that the only time his life had ever felt abnormal was after Steve left.

He hadn’t known any of that the first time he kissed Steve, but he knew it this time, and it made the decision even easier. Feeling a surge of courage and determination, he leant forward and pressed their lips together.

Taken aback by the suddenness, Steve inhaled sharply through his nose and for a moment Bucky panicked, worried he’d misjudged his willingness, but when he moved to pull away he quickly found Steve chasing his lips, reaching up to hold the back of his head and close the gap between them again. Humming happily, Bucky settled himself in Steve’s lap, straddling his legs and draping his arms lazily around his neck. It wasn’t long before Steve was nipping gently at Bucky’s bottom lip, impatient as ever to deepen the kiss. For a while, Bucky held out on him, relishing the frustrated noises Steve made as he desperately flicked his tongue against his lip. It was nice, after a year of thinking he hadn’t been enough, to feel how much Steve wanted him.

He finally parted his lips, giving Steve what he wanted, and he couldn’t help but smile against him at how quickly he slipped his tongue in. He tasted sweet, like strawberries. Bucky had no memory of buying any strawberries recently, there was no way Steve could have eaten any… unless…

“Oh, you bastard!” He exclaimed as he broke the kiss. “You’ve been eating my Pop-Tarts.”

“Buck,” Steve sighed, chasing his lips. “Can you stop thinking for five minutes?”

Bucky hummed, allowing Steve to recapture his lips and making a mental note to find a new hiding place for his snacks later. They kissed for a while, Bucky wasn’t sure how long. He always lost his sense of time when Steve was kissing him. It could have been 5 minutes. Could have been 50. Eventually he had to take a break to get his breath back, kissing along Steve’s jaw, the stubble there scratching his chin.

“When was the last time you shaved?” He asked, nuzzling lazily at the hairs on his chin.

“It’s uh… been a few days.” Steve admitted as he felt the stubble on his cheek. “Sorry.”

“S’okay, I like it. Makes you look rugged.” Bucky purred, coming across more eager than he’d intended. “It’s like I’m dating a less-muscular Thor.”

“Oh get fucked.”

Bucky threw his head back laughing and Steve scowled at him, folding his arms impatiently as he waited for him to compose himself. The grouchy look on his face only made it harder and he rolled his eyes, stroking Steve’s cheek lightly.

“’M sorry.” He sniggered. “I don’t mean it.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth turned up into a smile and he chuckled, leaning into Bucky’s touch. “So,” He said, cocking his eyebrow curiously, “we’re dating now huh?”

Bucky flushed, chewing on his lip. The word had slipped out rather than having any thought put into it, and now he worried he might have backed himself into a corner too quickly.

“I don’t know.” He said quietly, worrying on his bottom lip nervously. “I think… we still have a lot to talk about. There’s a lot of trust that needs rebuilding.”

Steve nodded in understanding, wrapping his arms loosely around Bucky’s waist.

“We don’t have to rush into anything.” He said. “I mean, if you want me to give you some space for a while-”

“I don’t want that.” Bucky cut in, his gut twisting just at the thought of Steve leaving. He sighed, his shoulders slumping dejectedly. “This is what I’m talking about.” He said. “I just… after last time, I’m always gonna have this voice in the back of my head telling me you’re gonna leave again. I had that even _before_ you left and now it’s just gonna be ten times worse.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Steve asked, running his hands up his back reassuringly. “I mean, other than reminding you every five minutes that I can’t live without you.”

Bucky smiled, a warmth filling his chest when Steve looked up at him lovingly.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I think it’s just gonna take time.”

Nodding again, Steve pulled him a little closer and they both fell silent. Bucky could feel Steve’s eyes lingering on his lips again. Without thinking, he flicked his tongue out to wet his bottom lip and felt Steve shift beneath him, watching him intently. It felt nice. Considering Steve’s circle of friends largely comprised of some of the most inhumanely beautiful people on the planet, it felt nice that he could look at someone as ordinary as him and see something beautiful.

“Steve?” He said after a while, breaking the silence.

“Mm?”

“Wanna make out some more?”

Steve smirked up at him, answering his question by leaning forward and pressing their lips together.

They kissed for hours, trying to make up for a year of being apart. Some of it was frenzied, all teeth and tongue and frantic touching. Then it would slow down until they were barely kissing at all, just bumping their noses together between shy pecks. At one point, Steve flipped them over, and Bucky ended up on his back with Steve pressing him into the couch. He’d forgotten how much he missed this. The weight of Steve on top of him, his fingers tangled in his hair, strong thighs on either side of his hips holding him in place. He made Bucky feel fragile in a way nobody else could, vulnerable, but also safe. Nothing could get to him while Steve was surrounding him.

They were forced to finally break away from each other when Bucky’s stomach grumbled loudly, and when Bucky looked out the window he saw that the sun had already gone down. A faint tinge of sadness filled him. Today was their last day before Steve was thrust back into the public spotlight again, and already it seemed to have slipped away. Still, despite the knowledge that everything would change again tomorrow, they agreed they still didn’t want to rush anything tonight. Instead, they ordered Chinese takeout and curled up on the couch together. Bucky decided to introduce Steve to Queer Eye and they ended up binge watching the whole of season 1, while making no shortage of jokes about what would happen if Steve were nominated for a makeover by the Fab 5.

By the end of the last episode, Bucky was struggling to keep his eyes open, slumping his head groggily against Steve’s chest as his finger hovered over the pause button.

“Do you wanna start season 2?” He asked, trying to mask the yawn that rose up.

“Buck,” Steve chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. “Go to bed.”

“I don’t wanna.” He whined. “I can sleep tomorrow when you’re doing press stuff.”

“I won’t be doing press stuff at all if I don’t sleep.” Steve pointed out.

“Even better.” Bucky countered. “C’mon, we can watch one more.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Steve said, reaching around him and closing his laptop. “We watch one more episode, but we watch it in your bed. Doesn’t matter if you fall asleep that way.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him but agreed, getting to his feet with a grunt and carrying his laptop through the doorway to his bed. Once he was settled, the duvet wrapped around him and a stack of pillows under his head, he realised he would barely make it through five minutes of another episode. Exhaling deeply, he rolled onto his side and looked up at Steve, who was sat on top of the covers next to him.

“I think I’m gonna go to sleep.” He said quietly, reaching out to grab Steve’s arm when he moved to get up. “You can stay… if you want to.”

Steve looked at him with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”  

Bucky nodded, snuggling closer to him. “Always sleep better when you’re here.”

For a while Steve didn’t say or do anything, spending a long time mulling over the decision in his head. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he reached over and switched off the bedside light before slipping under the covers. Bucky hummed happily when he felt Steve’s arms snaking around his waist, pulling him towards him. The warmth radiating from Steve’s chest sent a wash of calm over him, and he barely registered the whisper of “Goodnight, Buck.” in his ear before sleep took over.

He woke up to sunlight streaming in through a crack in the curtains. For a moment, the bed felt empty, and fear pooled in his gut that Steve might have left again. The fear was quickly extinguished when he rolled onto his back, and saw Steve sat next to him, propped up against the headboard and looking straight ahead, lost in thought.

“Hi.” Bucky said softly, pulling Steve out of whatever daydream he was lost in.

“Oh, hi.” He said as he shifted to look at him. “You sleep okay?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while.” Bucky admitted.

Steve nodded, still looking a little distracted, and Bucky frowned.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Steve trailed off for a moment. “Tony’s press conference is in a couple of hours.”

“Are you gonna go?”

He nodded, chewing on his lip for a moment. “I was thinking uh… maybe you could- we could go together?”

Bucky blinked at him, wondering for a moment if he’d misheard him, or if he was still asleep. “You… want me to go with you?” He asked, still not quite believing it even when Steve nodded again. “As in, go _outside_ … to a public place… at the same time?”

“Yeah.” Steve said. “Buck, once this conference happens I’m gonna be the centre of public attention for _at least_ a week, for however long it takes for something more interesting to grab everyone’s attention. If we’re gonna keep up with how we were before, I’ll have to leave until it’s safe to come back to you and I just… I don’t wanna do that. I wanna stay here. I wanna talk and try and work things out and if that means going public then… I don’t know, maybe I’m being selfish but-”

“Whoa whoa slow down.” Bucky cut in. “You wanna go _public_?”

“Now seems like as good a time as any.” Steve shrugged. “If I stay here after that conference people are _gonna_ find out about us.”

Bucky couldn’t argue with that, but this all seemed to be happening pretty fast.

“So what?” He asked. “We just… barge into Stark’s conference unannounced?”

“I’m not gonna force you to do it.” Steve assured him. “You wanted me to prove I’m not gonna walk out again. I guess this is just… my way of showing you how far I’m willing to go.”

For a moment, Bucky said nothing, chewing on his bottom lip as he considered what Steve was saying to him. The idea of even leaving the apartment with him sent a surge of adrenaline through him, and the thought of crashing a _press conference?_ Bucky _had_ always wished for a little excitement in his life, to feel a little closer to Steve’s action packed world.

“Upstaging Tony Stark… does sound kinda fun.” He admitted.

Steve’s eyes lit up and he grinned. “It’s really fun.” He promised him. “I’ve done it several times.” 

A surge of excitement pulsed through him, making him feel giddy. As if they were two schoolboys about to pull off the best senior prank of all time.

Once they’d both showered, they set about trying to put together a decent enough disguise for Steve to make it across the city without being recognised at a glance. They started with jeans and the loosest fitting shirt he had, layering up a hoodie and a coat. Bucky dug out an old, thick wool scarf his mom had bought for him when he first moved to New York, smiling fondly at the memory as he wrapped it around Steve’s neck and pulled it up high to cover his chin. It dawned on him that he was gonna have to explain all this to him mom at some point, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He pulled a bobble hat over Steve’s head, and found a pair of sunglasses to complete the look.

“How do I look?” Steve asked, standing still while Bucky took in the mismatched outfit. The layers of clothing, paired with the growing beard on his face, only made him look _vaguely_ less like himself.

“Like Captain America having a breakdown.” Bucky observed. “But it’ll work. We’ll just walk fast so nobody can look at you too hard.”

Steve smiled sheepishly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and rocking back on his heels. “Yeah.” He nodded. “That’s what most people say about my disguises.”

Bucky just shrugged, grabbing a grey hoodie from his closet and tugging it over his head. “Short of buying you a fake moustache from the joke store down the street, I don’t know what else we can do.” He said. “It’ll have to do.”

“You seem pretty blasé for someone who’s about to step outside with New York’s most wanted.”

“You’re hardly that.” Bucky muttered. “Besides, this is _New York_. Everyone on the street is in some kind of hurry to get where there going. Nobody ever stops to look at you.”

Nodding, Steve waited for Bucky to head for the front door, following behind him down the stairs and out onto the street. It was the first time they’d ever been together anywhere other than Bucky’s apartment, since the night Bucky brought him back with him from the hospital. It sent a rush of adrenaline through him. The thought that at any moment somebody could see them. There were people walking past them already, the street seemed even busier than usual and it only added to the sense of excitement and adventure.

“Okay,” Steve said, taking a deep breath and holding his hand out for him to take. “Let’s go.”

Bucky took his hand. Under normal circumstances it would have been a tiny gesture, he might not even have noticed the contact at all, but right now Steve’s hand felt like it was burning against his. Not enough to be painful, but enough to make it impossible to forget they were holding hands as they hurried down the street. He realised that navigating the city streets was a lot easier with his hand glued to a 6’2 240lb super soldier. Even in his disguise, people instinctively moved out of Steve’s path as he charged along the pavement.

They were making good progress when Bucky clipped shoulders with someone walking in the opposite direction. Instinctively, he spun round to shout a hurried apology and regretted it immediately when he saw who it was.

How, in a city of 8 million people, he’d managed to bump shoulders with his ex of all people was an absolute mystery, but there he stood, blinking at him in slow realisation.

“Bucky?” Chris said, seeming to share Bucky’s level of disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh…”

He racked his brains, trying to think of some kind of explanation for why he was walking down a random street a good 30 minutes away from where he lived. Before he could answer, Chris spoke again.

“Who’s this?” He asked, his eyes flicking over to Steve, then down to their linked hands, and back up to Steve’s face again. Bucky watched him scrutinising that face, trying to place it, and quickly cut in before he could recognise who it was.

“Well it was great seeing you!” He said cheerily, ignoring both Chris’ questions. “But we really have to get going. C’mon, Steve.”

Why the _fuck_ did he have to say his name?

“Oh.” Chris said, folding his arms and tilting his chin up as he tried (and failed) to make himself appear threatening. “ _This_ is Steve huh? So I was right about you two after all.”

“Jesus Christ, man, are you _really_ gonna do this in the middle of the fucking street?”

“Buck, we really gotta go.” Steve mumbled, leaning towards him and keeping his voice as hushed as possible.

“I know.” He whispered. “Just… give me one second.”

Turning back to Chris, he held his finger in the air as he began listing the points he wanted to make. “ _First_ of all, you were right about jackshit. Second, you called the fucking _cops_ on me because your head is so far up your own asshole you couldn’t cope with me dumping you, so if you think I’m ever gonna give you more than 5 minutes of my time ever again you’re wrong. _Third_ of all, I’ve felt more in the last ten fucking minutes I’ve spent with Steve than I did in our entire relationship, so maybe you should-”

Before he could get the rest of his sentence out, Chris was swinging a punch at Steve’s face. Steve dodged it easily, swinging back and knocking Chris to the ground without even letting go of Bucky’s hand. They both stood there, looking down at Chris, who was out cold on the ground, and then at each other.

“So you just knocked a guy out.” Bucky said flatly. “In the middle of a crowded street, while we’re trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

“I feel like this is only _partly_ on me. You were already making a scene.” Steve countered. “But that’s not what we should be focusing on right now.”

“And what exactly do you want me to focus on? Besides my comatose ex-boyfriend?”

“How about the cop currently running towards us.”

“The wha- Hey!” He yelled as Steve tugged him down the street, barely giving him a chance to glance over his shoulder at the uniformed officer barging through the crowd before he was being pulled down an alley and round a corner.

They ran for a while, weaving through back alleys until finally Bucky had to stop and get his breath back.

“You okay?” Steve asked, rubbing Bucky’s back comfortingly as he took a few deep breaths.

“I’m fine.” He panted. “It’s just… the last time I ran… was in gym class when I was 18. I think my body’s going into shock.”

Steve chuckled, taking his sunglasses off and leaning against the back wall of whatever building they’d ended up behind. “Don’t worry.” He smirked. “I’ll make a SHIELD agent of you yet.”

“Well I think we can call my first mission a resounding failure.” Bucky muttered, angry at himself for letting Chris rile him up like that. “Sorry.”

“S’not your fault. It was me that got the cop’s attention, not you.” Steve shrugged, smiling to himself. “Felt pretty good though.”

“Are you kidding me? It was _brilliant_. You knocked him out cold.” Bucky grinned. “There’s plenty more guys I’d love to see you beat up, if you’re interested.”

They both burst out laughing, Bucky sank to the floor and Steve quickly followed, and they both sat, propped against the wall, giggling like a couple of kids. Bucky slumped his head against Steve’s shoulder, exhausted from all the laughing, running, and powerwalking down the streets.

“We should probably get going.” Steve said quietly after a few minutes, pulling back his coat sleeve to check the time. “Stark’s conference started five minutes ago.”

Bucky sucked on his bottom lip, mulling over everything that had happened.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked, looking up at him.

“You having second thoughts?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky shrugged. “It feels like we’re going from one extreme to the other. Last time we kept everything a secret, and now we’re gonna burst right into a room full of reporters? On national television? What were you even gonna say when we got there?”

Steve paused, looking down at his hands. “I uh… I have part of a speech ready.”

“ _Part_ of a speech? What does that even mean?”

“I have an opening line.” He admitted, cringing when Bucky stared at him. “Okay so maybe this was a dumb plan.”

Bucky hummed in agreement, nuzzling his shoulder reassuringly. “Not everything has to be a big dramatic statement, you know.” He told him. “You keep saying you want us to have a normal life, so maybe we should try just being normal.”

He didn’t look convinced, and Bucky reached over to squeeze his hand.

“I know it’s not gonna be _normal_ , especially after all this stuff with Stark, but…” He trailed off, worrying at his lip again. “I love you.” He admitted. “I wanna be part of your life, not some secret alter ego's. And I know it’s gonna be dangerous and there’s gonna be a lot to figure out but we can at least try.”

For a while Steve didn’t say anything, and Bucky braced himself for rejection, but it never came. Instead Steve exhaled, turning to press a kiss to Bucky’s forehead.

“I love you too.” He said softly. “That’s why I wanted to go to that conference and just… shout it out to everyone. I guess my brain always goes straight the biggest, most dramatic decision possible. I _want_ to be with you… properly. I was trying to prove that to you.”

“Stevie, you proved that the second you stepped out of my apartment with me.” Bucky told him. “That’s what I want. Not anything crazy just… going out and holding hands. Just little things. We can go to that art exhibition you always talked about, and try that Thai place across the street that doesn’t do takeaways. If we get recognised we get recognised, it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”  

Steve hummed thoughtfully, sitting upright and turning towards him. “Okay,” He said decisively, “How about breakfast? At that waffle place you love?”

Bucky felt like his heart had just expanded three sizes.

“Now?” He breathed, searching Steve’s face for any sign that he wasn’t being serious, and beaming even brighter when he nodded. “You mean it?”

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to see what it looked like on the inside.”

“The food tastes even better when you get it fresh.” Bucky promised, getting to his feet and holding his hand out for Steve to take. “You’ll love it.”

Smiling fondly up at him, Steve put his sunglasses back on and pulled his scarf up over his chin, taking Bucky’s hand as he stood up. They retraced their steps through the alley and back along the streets, at a much calmed pace than before. Chris was nowhere to be seen where they’d left him, and they joked about how long it would be before he realised who it was that had knocked him out. Bucky hadn’t realised how long they’d been out until they reached the tiny waffle house and saw how empty the usually bustling café was. Frowning, he checked his phone and saw the time. 11:45. Pretty late for breakfast.

They pushed through the door, the jingling chimes alerting the girl at the checkout of their arrival. She was a plump, dark skinned girl with thick round glasses and a smattering of freckles across her face.

“Bucky!” She said when she saw him, beaming a toothy grin that showed off her braces. “Haven’t seen you in weeks, we were starting to worry.”

“Hey, Summer.” He smiled, a little embarrassed that he came in here often enough to know everyone’s names.

Next to him, Steve removed his glasses and took in the surroundings. The café had a cosy feel, with family photos framed along one wall, rosy red table cloths on each table, and cottage chairs with mismatched cushion seats. Summer didn’t pay Steve much attention at first, nattering to Bucky about a few funny customers who had come in while he was away before taking his order. Finally, she moved on to Steve, her notebook clutched in her hand and pen poised to write down his order.

“Sorry,” She said as she turned, towards him, “I never even introduced myself. I’m Sum… mer.”

Her eyes widened for a moment in recognition, glancing back over to Bucky, who smiled back in amusement.

“Uh…” She continued, shaking her head and smiling back up at Steve. “What can I get for you?”

Steve gave her his order, boosting the charm as he told her how much he loved the waffles here before following Bucky to a booth by the window. Summer disappeared through a door, and from the kitchen they could faintly hear her excited squealing.

“I feel like I just introduced you to my family.” Bucky chuckled, snuggling up next to Steve on the loveseat.

“I didn’t realise how nice this place was.” Steve said as he looked around the place. There were a couple other customers dotted around, but none of them had paid any mind to his and Steve’s arrival, or to Summer’s reaction. Their eyes all glued to their newspapers, or to the small square TV in the corner showing today’s news. As Bucky’s eyes focused more on the screen, he realised they were showing the end of Stark’s press conference, before cutting to the chief of police giving a speech. The headline ‘Charges against Captain America dropped” scrolled along the bottom of the screen and Bucky smiled, nudging Steve’s arm gently.

“Looks like you’re no longer a wanted criminal.” He smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

A couple of people around the room glanced over at them, their eyes lingering on Steve’s face a little longer than necessary. But nobody said anything, they all went back to their papers, or their food, or to the TV, not sparing them any more attention than they would any other affectionate couple. Under the table, Bucky felt Steve’s hand seeking out his own, linking their fingers together and squeezing his hand gently.

“You know,” He said softly. “I think we’re gonna be okay.”

For the first time in a long time, Bucky felt whole. Like this was always supposed to be his life. Things were about to change, a lot, but he wasn’t frightened of it, in fact he couldn’t wait. He wasn’t Steve’s secret identity anymore, he was just part of him. Part of his life. And Steve was part of his. Like they were always meant to be.


End file.
